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CHAPTER 1- PUNCHING BAG

Holland Roden as Lily Tate.

Hey babes just a warning that there is some mistakes because originally Nick Bateman was playing Luca and I haven't edited most chapters

I suggest that if you don't like this book then don't read it instead of writing comments of what I should do and what's bad, but please enjoy.

I'm younger then 15 so it's not going to be perfect

TRIGGER WARNING: this story does mention harsh topics including physical and sexual abuse. If you do not want to read anything about that, stop reading now.

Now let's stop with the serious Crap and get to some story time!

Mildon_x (Karen) edited some of the first chapter

Keely

~~

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Groaning in annoyance at the coming of another terrible day, I slam my fist down on the alarm and quickly jump out of bed.

Running around the room, in a way that would rival a complete and utter mad man, I gather a few clothes strewn across the floor and throw them on, before taking off down the stairs to prepare breakfast.

Sighing, I manage to hold back a panic attack as my watch shines 5:45. 15 minutes. I have 15 minutes to get everything ready, thats not enough time! Im stuffed, I'm done! I'm good for dead!

Racking my hands through my hair, I stop walking and take some deep breaths.

"Now is not the time to worry. Just get it done and get out," I whisper to myself, and before I know it I'm dusting off my hands and scurrying over to place the plate on the wooden table in between the cutlery and orange juice.

Wasting no time I leave the kitchen, this time with more persistance then what I entered with. My feet, as if having a mind of their own, automatically move down the hall grabbing cleaning products along the way, I find myself from routine standing in the bathroom as my hand automatically reaches out to wipe the bench.

Suddenly, loud thumping fills the silence and I gulp nervously. But then it stops. There is no more banging, no stomping. Nothing. Just silence.

Bit it didnt last long.

"LILY!" The devil himself yells. With a sigh and shaking hands, I walk timidly down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Y-yes sir?" I stutter.

"What is this?!" He roars.

"Food s-sir," for that comment, I get a punch to the face. With my hand covering the stinging, red fist shaped mark adorning my cheek, I squeeze my eyes shut. Trying to hold in the tears.

If I cry, he will go harder.

"Don't be sarcastic with me!" I feel an impact to my side, which sends me falling to the floor. Curling into a ball, I protect my face and stomach; my usual defensive act as I contemplate life.

My body, already bruised and battered from days, weeks, years of beatings, continues to be battered. I don't know how much longer I can handle this. How much longer my body can handle this. Sometimes I wish I could just drift off into space. Go far, far away and never come back, but I cant.

I'm their punching bag. Just dangling their, tied to the house and unable to leave. I hate it and I don't know how much more hurt my body can take.

"P-please stop," I plead quietly , but he doesn't listen; he never does.

Instead he yells, "Shut up slut!" Before sending a kick to my face. I know that I shouldn't have said that, I've learned to keep my mouth shut but somehow I hope that own day he will listen.

Black dots appear in my vision. Is god finally giving me peace? Am I now at his mercy? Take me please! Stop this! I think, as I fall into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

I wake up on the floor. Glass shards litter the ground around me, and as I sit up, it mimics the sound of a chime blowing in the breze as it falls off my bloodied form and onto the floor. With a wince at my aching body, I clutch my throbing head as if I could somehow erase the pain.

Standing up on weak legs, I take a proper look at the mess that has been made. Blood. Great.

Now I have to clean up the mess.

After sweeping up the shards and depositing them into the rubbish, and thoroughly mopping the floor, you cant tell that I got the crap beaten out of me only an hour ago.

Deciding that it's probably not wise to stand there bleeding after I've already cleaned the floor, I decide it time to tend to my wounds.

Making my way to the bathroom, I take a seat on the toilet and as I pick glass out of my wounds. I throw them onto the floor in hope that someone might just walk right up in here and stand on them. Maybe then, they might experience just a smidgen of pain that I go through on a daily basis.

Fixing my hair and covering the now bangaged wounds, as to not draw anymore un-needed attention to myself, I make my way to the front door.

But I don't open it and walk out. No, I pull aside the curtains and take a minute to mentally prepare myself for the comments that are about to be thrown my way.

Fat. Ugly. Anorexic. Ranga.

That's what they call me.

With my head down, I walk out the door. Or, more like stumble as I feel the impact of a body smash against mine. I look up and my eyes lock onto those of the wicked betas son, but instantly move down to the ground.

I cower away.

"Lily. Lily," he tsks.

I stay silent as he cirles my body running his index finger down my throat. I gulp.

"Watch where you're going next time," he flicks the purple bruise on my face and I wince. Unfortunately, my face is one place that I cant hide the bruises.

Sensing his retreting form, I keep my eyes on his back untill he's out of sight. Which I then let out the breath I had been holding.

I would stick up the finger but you know my situation....

They blame me for something I didn't do, I have no parents, no family, no friends, nothing. So why me?

I'm lonely. A loner.

I've been tortured, both mentally and physically. This is my own personal hell I endure every day.

I was saving myself for my mate but they had to take it away from me, they take away anything and everything away.

They say I'm not good enough for a mate and I won't have one, I never listened. But maybe they are right, maybe he will abuse me as well.

One second I'm standing near a really ugly water fountain and the next I'm being thrown at a tree. I scream in a shock as my front body slams into the tree.

I collapse to the floor and look up at the alpha's son, he grabs my hair roughly and pulls me up kneeing my face.

I cry at him to stop, to just listen for once, "p-please s-stop!"

His sinful smirk has always scared me, I can't see a smirk without thinking about him.

It's like he follows me everywhere and he doesn't know it, I'm terrified of him.

He was the one who first raped me.

Flashback

"LILY!" I look at an angry Sam and my eyes widen.

He grabs my hair and pulls me into his room, he pushes me on his bed and rips my clothes off.

My eyes widen when I realise what he's going to do, "p-please don't," I plead.

He doesn't say a thing and strips off his clothes, "Sam please," he hits me.

"It's not Sam to you!" He spits and sucks at my neck.

Tears fall down my cheeks and I sob, he wasn't meant to be the one to take my innocence. My mate, a one true love was.

Flashback over

"Stupid omega!" He spits. That's the last thing I see, a blurry image of him.

I close my eyes and let myself fall unconscious.

Please make the pain go away moon goddess, please.

'It's okay Lily.'

'It really isn't Celeste.' she sighs.

'Mate will find us,' I roll my eyes mentally.

'You've said that for the past three years Celeste, he still hasn't found us,' I say sadly.

'Don't give up, please,' I won't give up yet.

WELCOME TO ALPHA OF DOOM!

I honestly hope you enjoy it, this chapter was a bit sloppy but I promise it gets way better.

I know it was like a depressing chapter but I had to say what they do to her.

A Ranga is an offensive term for red heads, red heads get sensitive about it

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