When It's Time

Olyvia's Background

My name is Olyvia Conti, most people call me Olly. All of my life I have been the outcast, even my family dislikes me, and it all comes from "the voice". For the last five years I have had "the voice", it all started on my twelfth birthday with little whispers and images and slowly became a whole separate personality within me. Many fights and arguments have been had over this since, and frankly I am over it. I've gotten tired of asking questions with no answers. The only one who can give me information is "the voice" who told me prefers the name Mia. Mia says we are one and my parents are keeping secrets, which doesn't surprise me since I've been locked in the house the past five years. My family used to be loving and kind, now that is not so.

*FLASHBACK*

"Mia, come eat breakfast!" my mom calls from the kitchen as I get dressed for school, "Coming!" I called to her. Today is my first day at my new school since we moved from Italy to Canada. Mom and dad have been telling me to blend in and not stand out, so I'm not dressing to impress. Just a casual hoodie and jeans for today and my favorite blue converse. I run downstairs and hear a scream "STOP!!!" I freeze and look around me, unable to see anyone I slowly go downstairs to find my dad on the floor in a pool of blood. "DADDY!!" I scream as I run to him looking for where the most blood is coming from. "MATTHEW!" my mom screams from behind me before throwing me off of him, "WHAT DID YOU DO OLYVIA?" she questions. "Nothing mom, I heard you calling me for breakfast and heard someone scream stop and then came down and found him, mom we gotta call 911!" I quickly say as I look for my cell phone. 'He is dead, Olly. This wasn't humans who did this either, I could sense them so I told you to stop. You're welcome by the way.' a oddly familiar voice says, "No, we cannot call 911 Olyvia, now go to your room and do not leave until I come get you." my mom says as she pushes me into my room. Who was that voice? Why did she call me Olly? 'My name is Mia, I am your wolf.' I hear before jumping, "My wolf? That is crazy there is no way. I'm just losing my mind, yeah that's all, I just need to relax." I say before sitting down. "Dad will be fine, mom will make sure of it." I thought. But no, he was not fine, and nothing since has ever been.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

"I thought I told you to have breakfast cooked!" my mom screams at me as she slaps me with enough force to throw me back, " I'm sorry mom I missed my alarm." I say softly "I didn't ask you, you know when I need to eat bitch." she yells as she starts slapping and hitting me. I lay there and let her, fighting back my tears knowing it will only get worse if I fight or cry, 'You could win, you are better, stronger than her. Why must you allow us to look so weak?' 'Because Mia, she is my mother. Only six more months and we can finally leave and be happy.' 'No, we must find mate in six months, mate will make us happy.' 'You keep speaking of this mate Mia but you haven't explained anything, I'm just starting to accept that what you have been saying may be true but I still don't know why you are in my head' I reply with finality, ending the conversation. "Now hurry up so I don't starve you worthless brat." my mom says as she walks off. I sigh as I slowly stand, my body screaming against me, "And you better not eat anything, you lost your right to food today." I hear my mom as I put her food on her plate. "Yes ma'am I understand." I softly say before retreating to my less than comfy bedroom.

Mom has been a lot different since dad died, it started slow, beginning with an attitude, Six months after Dad’s death she began yelling at me for small things like walking up the stairs too loud or coughing at dinner. Shortly after that she began hitting me, an event that Mia was very angry about and oh boy did she make it known. Mia always questioned why I allowed my mother to treat me this way and I always tell her she is just grieving, that is until it got worse. About a year after my father’s death she decided she would work from home and got rid of my belongings while I was at school. “I own you,” She screamed at me that day when she saw me crying over my empty ex-bedroom, “you own nothing unless I say you own it and now since you are so entitled as to cry about the items I bought you, all you get is a bedsheet in the basement.” That day was the beginning of the worst five years of my life. The second anniversary of my father’s death my mother brought another man home and sent me to the basement, unbeknownst to me she had installed a one way lock on the door so I could not leave my bedroom. After that, I was no longer allowed to go to school and was forced to become my mother’s personal slave. I'm only allowed out of my room to serve her, then to my four concrete walls I must return. This went on for another year before she began to beat me, at first it was rare but now it could be for no reason.

I lie down on my sheet and close my eyes, 'Why don't we leave now?' Mia questions for about the millionth time, 'Because we have nowhere to go-' 'Home.' Mia interrupts me. 'This is home Mia we have had this conversation. Why do you insist it is not?' 'Because it is not. We belong elsewhere, our true home.' Mia states bluntly before closing herself off. I groan as I stand to begin my cleaning duties, dreading the day.