Stuck Between Alpha And Beta

Zia Vladimir I squeeze myself under the blanket while laying on my small bed, thinking about the pain of the life I’m living. Father is out there drinking again, while I’m here all alone in my room and the comfort of my bed. I have always lived in pain all my life, so it’s not something I’m not used to. My clothes that are rolled into a pillow, are now soaked with my tears. This is what I go through every day, my life is a mess and there’s nothing I can do about it. The staggering footsteps from outside alert me to my father’s scent. Fear grips me as I tightened my grip around the blanket. Knowing what is waiting for me, and getting scared is an understatement. My heartbeat increases rapidly as I pray silently that he spares me this time around. His footsteps draw closer, and I need no one to tell me that he’s already making his way to my room. My fear increased. Seconds slowly tick into minutes, and I suddenly hear a loud bang on the door, as if he’s trying to bring it down. “Open this door, you witch,” That’s what he had always called me, so it’s not a big deal to me. As if I’m begging my bed for protection, I squeeze myself as a strong wave of fear sparks through me. “Don’t let me repeat myself, Zia. I won’t spare you,” He threatens and I gulp down the sudden lump that forms in my throat. For the next seconds, silence assumes the air, but I can still feel his presence. The sudden footsteps that fill the hallway tell me that he must’ve gotten tired of standing, and maybe decide to let it slide this evening. But one thing I'm sure of is that he won’t spare me. I sigh in relief and close my eyes to get some sleep, but the sound of the clicking keys on my door pulls my attention. My heart skips as realization dawns on me. He has the spare keys to every single room in this house. Of course, it’s his house and he tends to have spare keys to it. I jump down from the bed with fear in me, my whole body trembles in fear, as I look around for a place to hide. This is his house and he knows every corner of it, so there’s no way I can hide anywhere. The door suddenly opens and he walks in, reeking of alcohol. The sight of him terrifies me. I can’t believe I’m so scared of my own father as if he’s some monster. “Zia!” he roars angrily as soon as he marches in with anger written all over him. He welcomes me with a slap, which sends me rolling on the floor as I hold my burning cheek painfully. Tears flow down my cheeks. “How dare you!” he grabs my hair and starts dragging it, while I just cry out in pain. What have I ever done to deserve this from someone that supposed to be protecting me? I have lived all my life in pain, is there no day that I’ll ever be happy? What is my offense? Those are the questions I have always asked myself for the past sixteen years of pain. My name is Zia Vladimir, twenty-three years old and the only daughter of this beast that I grew up with, knowing to be my father. Even after so many years, I still don’t believe that he’s my father. There’s no way anyone would hate their own seed to this extent. I grew up in an abusive home, where my father treats me like a piece of trash. To him, I’m nothing but a witch that brought nothing to him, but pains and regret. My only offense is that my mother died while giving birth to me. That’s why he hates me so much and treats me badly. Every day, I have to wake up and spend my whole day in pain, while I soak my pillow with tears over the night. As far as I have come to remember, my messy and painful life all started when I was just seven years old. At least, that was when I started remembering things. I have always been wondering why he didn’t kill me, when he had all the chances to, why he raised me, knowing he was going to treat me like this. I always imagine how beautiful and happy my life would’ve been if only my mother were to be alive. But it wasn’t my fault that she died, right? “Vladimir you’re hurting me…” I cry out in pain, trying to free my hair from his tight grip, but his grasp only gets tightened. He never allows me to call him ‘dad’; he prefers that I call him his real name. “Get out of my house, you witch!” he drags me out of the room and slams the door close. Since I have nowhere else to sleep, outside the house is the only shelter I have. All through the night, mosquitoes feasts on my blood, the cold freezes me as much as it can, and the chirping of birds keeps me awake. As soon as it's almost dawn, I sneak in through the window and sneak into the kitchen to make breakfast. I don’t want to be late for work, so I have to go early. I work as a waiter in one of the local restaurants in the next street. That’s where I get the money to provide for myself and my father. The food we eat and all our financial needs are all on me since I’m the only one working. My dad quits working when I was just eighteen, and since then, I have been the only one taking responsibility for the family. After I’m done with all the chores and cooking breakfast, I serve his food on the table and go to my room to dress up for work. I leave for work after I get ready. Since I’m already late and there’s no money on me to take a cab, I decide to take a run. I run as fast as my legs can carry me, and just when I want to cross the road, something suddenly knocks me off the ground, and that’s all I remember…