The Luna's Final Bow

Chapter 2

In order to support myself, I put in an average of sixteen hours of work per day. My mom has a job, but she still has trouble making ends meet between daily expenses and her asthma medicine. Despite it, she continued to work. She continues to work at the boutique, where she once sewed lavish gowns for Luna and the friends. But Mama's body is starting to give up on her already, and she's just fifty. She's just recently developed arthritis in her hand, but there have been days when the pain prevents her from using it in the kitchen or the workshop. And as the old adage goes, "No work, no pay" holds true.

So, I've been working two jobs and stocking up on groceries before heading out of town. That way, I know she won't be hungry and my worries will be lessened. I owe it to her as her daughter to take care of her the way she did for me when I was little, since she is all I have.

"Mama? Are you still awake?"

I just got back from work at half past ten. There was a comforting woodsy aroma, and the lights were low. We have two little bedrooms, each with a single wooden bed, in our modest home. We were unable to purchase a mattress at this time. We also have a combined kitchen/dining space and a little living room, if you can even call it that. Who are we, after all, to complain? From the moment of our birth until the moment of our death, this is the way we Omegas are meant to live.

As my stomach rumbled, I took notice. I know it's not good to go hungry, but I didn't have time to have dinner and I already forgot about lunch after what happened in the cafeteria. About five o'clock this morning was the last time I ate anything. I had a banana.

I was on my way to the kitchen when I heard a grunt and turned around to see if it was my mom.

"Alex? Is that you?" I heard her cough.

When I saw my mother, she was shaking so much that her teeth were chattering. She is currently using one of the thin sheets we have available. The blankets we laundered yesterday aren't totally dry just yet, but they're not dripping wet, either. All day long, overcast skies have made it seem like even Mother Nature is against us.

"Yes, Mama." I gently laid my hands on her head and neck. She has a fever. "Have you had your medication yet?" She closed her eyes and shook her head.

Perhaps she hasn't eaten yet, either. Forgetting that I was hungry, I went to retrieve my bedding from my bedroom. I threw it in with what she was using and went to get some breakfast. While waiting for the soup to simmer, I sliced a couple loaves of bread and took them to her.

Damn! Water was one of the things I failed to remember. I got up and walked back into the kitchen for another. I got myself a drink as well. The dry air has really irritated my throat. My stomach is rumbling and my head is hammering with hunger.

"Mama, I'll help you up. Paracetamol will work better after you've eaten some bread. You've got a fever." I mean, really, look at how frail she was.

She didn't eat much of the bread and barely drank any of the water. She swallowed the pills and said, "No more. My head feels so heavy. I need to lay down."

I gave her two pillows instead of one so she wouldn't have to change positions quite so often. At least once the soup is ready, I can feed her. Mother was still sleeping and appeared to be fine when I left this morning. But, her cough is getting worse. She got caught in the rain a few days ago. I’m no medical profession but I think that's what triggered this.

I feel so tired but I can't just go to bed and ignore Mama. I double-checked the soup after returning to the kitchen and it still wasn't ready. While waiting, I filled the basin with water and grabbed a small washcloth. We have no ice but the water's refreshingly cool. It's adequate. I wiped her face with the wet cloth and pressed it on her forehead. A couple more times, I repeated the procedure before returning to the kitchen.

At long last, the onion soup is ready. I got two bowls ready and brought them back to her room on a tray. I felt I might as well try to eat while I was feeding her.

"Mama, I made onion soup. This will make you feel better. Please have some."

Mama is an excellent patient. Once I fed her, she gobbled up a third of the bowl. It's a step up from barely eating anything. Even I got to eat some of that delicious soup. After I washed, dried and put away the bowls, I took her temperature. It has begun to drop. Thank the Moon Goddess!

Before turning in for the night, I kissed her good night. I wanted to take a quick shower but I think I am going to pass out before the water even hits the top of my head so I am going to skip it. I simply changed into other clothes and put on socks. I also put on my sweater just in case it gets cold later. I laid down my body and tried to get some rest.

Ale.

There is that funny name again. The full moon is happening soon and every year since I turned eighteen, I would hear Ale around this time. My name is Alex, not Ale. It's short for Alexandra.

It's just one letter. Gah! How hard is it?

There were a few tosses and turns, but eventually I gave up. I jumped to my feet and grabbed a dusty tome. It was a library book that I checked out and renewed every week. The focus is on fighting and mastering time-honored techniques. I can't rely on a wolf for protection, so I should probably train to defend myself and Mom. It's common knowledge that Papa perished in the ambush. Even though the Alpha was the intended victim that night, Mama got away unscathed. Only she and I made it out of the ambush alive.

According to Mom, she knew Luna Aiyana and Alpha Barron as children and even saw them fall in love. They were inseparable and a formidable duo. Some romantic relationships, though, didn't last just like theirs.

And the loss of their daughter that night is especially tragic. Similar to my own age, she might now be twenty-five.