Chapter 2 A Life Unwanted

kyria

As I lay helpless on the ground, I heard footsteps approaching my room. Sia came in. "What's wrong, Kyria? Can't handle a little pain? Huh?" Sia taunted. She came closer to me and squatted, "You're just so weak, she sneered.

I tried to speak, but my voice cracked. My stomach throbbed, and my body trembled. I felt like I was disappearing.

"You're nobody, Kyria." Sia's smile twisted.

She stood up. Brushing her hands together as she turns to leave, she spins around.

"Oh, by the way, have you prepared my meal?" I did not respond; with my eyes down, she used her index finger and pulled my face up. "When I'm asking, you should be responding, unless you want another beating, she smiled.

"You know I can just go to my mum, and I'm like, Mum, Kyria has refused to keep to your instructions. She's told me she can't cook and that she's in pain. If you really wanted her to cook, you shouldn't have hit her." She gave a slow, deliberate clap, her eyes rolling in mockery.

At this point I had no other choice than to do as I was told, even though I was going through excruciating pain. I reached out to Sia, "Please, can you help me up?" She looked at me with disgust. "Excuse you, and why should I do that?" By the way, when you're done, bring the food to my room, and be fast about it," she said as she slammed the door behind her.

I held my head and staggered up. With no choice, I walked to the kitchen, my eyes scanning the room with a mix of physical pain and emotional turmoil.

My body ached from the beating I had endured, but I knew I had to push through and make the meal for my half-sister. My gaze landed on the counter, where the ingredients for a grilled cheese sandwich lay waiting.

With a gentle touch, I buttered one side of each bread slice, wincing slightly as the movement sent a pang of pain to my bruised rib. I tried to hold back tears as I thought about why I am being forced to cook despite my injuries.

I miss my mum. If she were here, I would not be a maid to my stepmother and her daughter in my father's house. For a moment I detested my mum, asking myself why she had to leave me at a young age. I questioned the moon goddess if she really was watching over me; she might probably be watching over other people, but I doubt she does me.

Next I placed one slice buttered side down in the pan, where it sizzled and crackled, the butter melting into a golden brown kiss. A sprinkle of cheese follows, its golden shreds stretching and merging with the bread as it melts. I felt a surge of resentment towards Sia, who was lounging in her room.

The second bread slice, buttered up completely, completed the sandwich, which I cooked until both sides were golden brown. As the sandwich cooked, the aroma of melted cheese and toasted bread filled the air, teasing my senses and momentarily distracting me from the pain.

I lifted the sandwich out of the pan and placed the grilled cheese sandwich on a plate. With a heavy heart I carried the plate to Sia's room, where she was waiting to be served.

"Shut the door behind you as you're leaving," she remarked. I went back to my room since I'd been instructed never to taste anything I dare not. I lay down on my bed. I needed to stay for some time so the pain in my stomach could go down; I'm very sure Aunt Binna would be taking a nap by now and Sia would be on her phone.

I had already set an alarm for when my father would come back. As the alpha of the pack, he has to take care of the pack's affairs. He comes back by 5PM, if it was a long day, at the latest 6PM. I set my alarm an hour earlier, but it was quite unfortunate that I slept through the alarm.

From Far I heard a faint voice, "Kyria, Kyria", the second time, and I jolted awake, my heart racing with terror. It was Aunt Binna. She smiled in a very horrific way. "Your dad has been back for hours now, and you're sleeping. That's how you slept your wolf away. All children your age have already connected with their wolves." I could not say anything; I overslept anyway, and if I tried to alter a word, it would be my worst day.

I went down to greet my dad. As I counted my steps closer to his study, I knocked and opened the door. W-w-welcome, sir," I stuttered. He raised his eyes and looked at me. He was sitting on the chair with a newspaper in his hand, with his lenses on. Aunt Binna was sitting on the table in front of him.

"Where have you been?" I had not answered that before he asked, "Did you go to work today?" "N-no, sir." With rage, he threw the newspaper on the floor and stood up, moving closer to me. "I learnt you've been sleeping; too big to work now, huh?" "N-no, sir, I was feeling pains all over my stomach; even if I went to work, I would not be able to do anything; I would not bring much money.

"Ohh, now I'm a beggar. I'm begging you for money, and how dare you look strength into my eyes and talk back at me?"

He flung me to the wall, and I felt a sharp pain in my back. As I fell to my knees, he came closer. "You have pains, right? Let me add to it."

Coming in, I noticed my dad had had some drinks , so I would have a taste of it today, but at this point I do not know if it's what I said or if something else happened because he does not react much if I do not go to work on schooldays.

At this point I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and waited for the worst to happen as I was kneeling helplessly on the floor.

Suddenly I heard Aunt Binna's voice: "You don't have to ruin her only asset; without that cute little face, we can't get anything out of the deal. We need her to be stable and strong for tomorrow." My father withdrew; he went back to his seat.