The Human Alpha and the Eclipse Prophecies

Chapter 5

*****WARNING THIS CHAPTER MAY CAUSE TRIGGERS. THE VIEWER IS ADVISED TO SKIP SOME PARTS IF PRONE TO TRIGGERS. THANK YOU*****************

Skylar's POV

At first, I didn't think I could get used to the pain, the betrayal and a bitter bit of loneliness, yet over time it became not something you are used to or easier to digest but rather numb to. Watching your mother waste away from the inside out due to disease and heartbreak; watching your whole family forget your existence or treat you like a human being did not change me; it just left me bleeding inside my heart.

My father didn't even give me time to mourn her before he moved Cecilia and her daughter Renee in permanently. He treated my feelings like an afterthought the second my mom passed away. Cecilia then demanded that my shares of his company, which had been passed down from my mom to me, be transferred to Renee. She had requested to my father on the pretense that I was never going to amount to anything and that all that money should be used in investing in Renee's. I wanted to contest what they were doing, attempting to steal what little memories my mother might have left behind for me. I had been beaten unconscious by my father and stepmother for even daring to speak out. I was ten then. My stepmother would pretend to car but behind the shadows she was more abusive than my father. She would do and say things to demean me and humiliate me. She taught her daughter to be just a cruel to me if not worse. So it was no surprise to me that she would just watch me get bet by father.

"You should feel grateful I didn't take you to an orphanage," my dad said after a hard smack to the ground. My lip split like dried onion as blood came tricking down. Cecilia was with a smug expression on her face as my dad straightened his suite jacket. "I let you stay here to honor your mother's memory," that is all. You will do as I say, or you will be punished." He had commanded the maids to throw me in the basement for three days until I had learned my lesson; no food or water. This was the last time I confronted him about my mother's things. Since then, I have learned to be more skilled at hiding and sneaking things.

Once everything was finalized, they got rid of all of my mother's things. I was only able to save a few things that belonged to her through some of the maids, who snuck a few of her belongings into the basement claiming it was storage. A family photo of all three of us together on a summer vacation, a few Greek and Roman history books, and a name tag of her last cat. The words "Helios" were written on them. When my mom was a child she had a cat. An orange cat that was so bright orange it looked like the sun, so she named him after the Greek god of the sun. My mom was a hopeless romantic about things in Greek mythology and such. She would often read me stories of the Greek heroes in history, but I took them as ways for her to put me to sleep. However, she was a very good storyteller and I would often listen intensely before surrendering to sleep. When my mom's things were being sent out of the Villa, I panicked, trying to save what little memory of her existence I could, but my stepmother beat me along with her daughter, saying that she was gone, and I should get over it. Only when blood could be seen on the floor did my father interfere and stop it, saying that it was normal for me to want to hold on to a few things. I only looked at him in disbelief. I couldn't believe my ears. My father talked about my mother as if they never shared a home, or had a marriage or a child. I shook my head silently. He had been completely seduced by this vixen and was like putty in her hands. I knew then and there that I couldn't rely on my dad to defend me. There was a slight hint of guilt and concern when he spoke; perhaps the only time since my mother's death. I had often wondered if he felt anything at all if he loved my mother or me at any point in time. He quickly pulled me up and told me to move my things into the basement laundry room. He said it with such coldness that I forgot he was even my father. From that moment on, I tried hard not to see them as my family. By blood, I was related to my father, but I didn't see him as such. As time passed, I saw my father as a stranger and I couldn't wait to put the past behind me.

I headed toward the basement with a box full of my things that I could claim or that Rain didn't want. I walked down to the laundry room. It was damp and often chilly during the winter months. The only upside to being in the place was that in the summer it was cool. My room, which was located on the west side of the house facing the city, was taken over by Renee. I slept on a small cot in the corner of the room. I had a small shelf for my books, the ones I was allowed to read and a dresser. I was made to do all the chores in the house, laundry, dish washing, cleaning the marble floors in the house or dusting. They made me into their personal free of charge servant at home. I wasn't allowed to eat with them, go out with them or have social gatherings with them. When family would visit they would ask about it, but my stepmother was clever and only told them I was in an all-girls school aboard. Those who knew the truth saw it differently but didn't say anything out of fear of my dad's power and connections. They did allowed me to go to school, although that was hell of its own making. During a dinner I was helping the maids prepare, my stepmother mockingly told my father she didn't want a dumb child who couldn't understand how to clean and that was their reason for sending me to school. My wardrobe did not have much either. I utilized the space that was used to store extra cleaning products. Because my school had uniforms, I did not have to worry too much about clothes. In total, I had four school uniforms, two for spring and summer and two for fall and winter. As for regular clothes, not a lot was given to me, mostly hammy-downs from Rain. A few dresses, two jeans with holes in them and several shirts and sweaters. Whenever my school uniform got torn or stained due to Rain and her bullies making fun of me, I would take out a sewing kit and knit the pieces together. It was something I enjoyed doing when I was alone. It passed time and kept me occupied with something other than my current situation. One time when I was eleven, the housekeeper saw me trying to sow my thin sheets together and pulled out her crochet hooks. She taught me how to crochet blankets, scarves, sweaters, and even accessories like stuffed animals. She was the only one in the house who was nice to me. From that moment on, she would sneak me treats from the kitchen and even spend time with me outside when they made her run errands. I was very grateful for her kindness, but I knew if I wasn't careful, either my stepmom or Rain would catch on like the last time, and the housekeeper Jennifer would be replaced with someone else. She was very cautious about keeping her distance when needed and only showed affection towards me behind their backs. People like Jennifer give me hope that my life will be better.

I normally didn't have a routine when my father first re-arranged everything after my mom died. A year later one summer morning, I was woken up by my stepmom pouring ice-cold water on me. "Get up, useless child," she yelled at me. I sat up shivering from the sudden dump of cold on my skin and pajamas. I glanced at the small windows that were across the room. The sun had barely come up, and it was still dark outside. I turned my head to my clock. It was on my dresser and said 4 am. I dared not show my frustration. Why was she getting me up at this hour? What is she up to this time? Often she would get me up to do humiliating tasks in front of my father or stepsister. I couldn't tell who was more vicious, her or her daughter. As I turned my head back to look at her, I could tell she was very impatient with me for still sitting in my now-soaked cot.