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Yet, some small part of me was curious if I’d actually get help at this facility, or if it would be another dead end for me. So far it had been one shitshow after another.
No one wanted to help a homeless omega with issues piled higher than a messy bun.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be coming with you.” Monty’s words were followed by maniacal laughter.
For once, I forced myself not to talk back to him. He narrowed his eyes at my lack of answer before disappearing completely as if I’d offended him.
“Come on, Harlow, let’s go,” my attorney told me, leading me out of the room and back to the bus that would take me to the county jail where I’d be waiting until a spot opened up.
As I stared at the barred window and the dirty streets passing by, I prayed to whatever gods were listening that this wouldn’t be my permanent home.
Harlow
Two Weeks Later
Monday Afternoon
Dark Haven Institute was on the edge of the city, secluded in a copse of trees, and looming high into the bright afternoon sky.
The Gothic structure looked like something out of a fantasy novel with its faded stone exterior and gargoyle statues standing sentry by the front stairs and the rooftop, as if protecting the world from the crazy people inside.
Dread settled in my gut as I glanced up to see my grandmother staring down from the window above me.
I knew she wasn’t really there, but it definitely didn’t make me want to go inside.
Monty appeared on the stairs as my court-appointed social worker led me into the building. He gave me a fanged grin that stretched a bit too wide on his terrifying face.
“See you inside, little human,” he promised before popping out of sight. My fingers brushed over the stone statue, and I found myself pausing, my skin tingling as the cold seeped in.
It wasn’t even cold outside. Yet another warning sign to fucking leave.
If only I could.
“This is a fantastic opportunity,” Adam cut in.
My social worker had been trying to sell me on this place for three days now as I waited for a bed to open up. The beta meant well but there was nothing he could say to convince me to be eager to walk inside.
To me, the mix of college courses and inpatient facilities seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. But if it gave me more freedom and something more to do than stare at four cinder block walls, I couldn’t really complain.
Hell, I’d do just about anything to escape that god-awful omega lockdown. The pheromones and whining in there were its own brand of torture.
Normally, I wouldn’t be so optimistic, but after looking at brochures for the first three facilities he showed me, I’d take this one any day.
It definitely beat the old stone basement of that church I thought I’d die in.
The same basement that stole not only my dignity but forced me to run. Maybe at the end of the day I should be grateful for them pushing me to leave early. Who knows if I would have survived beyond that.
If not for the bishop stepping in, I likely wouldn’t ever have seen the light of day again. But I hadn’t escape unscathed. My hallucinations were even worse after I left, and the feeling of paranoia that Grandma and the church were chasing me followed me for years.
But I never considered going back. Even when life got hard.
The cutthroat life of living on the streets and fighting for my daily meals was better than the torture I’d endured there. Sure, I may shiver in the rain, huddled under a freeway, but I didn’t have to be doused in holy water and see my grandma’s hate for me.
Fuck family.
A gambling asshole for a dad. When he’d tried to sell me, I was taken away and given to my grandmother. She was a fucking monster in disguise, far scarier than the ones in my head. And my mom had disappeared when I was little. Grandma promised it was because she couldn’t stand the thought of an abomination as a child. From what Dad had muttered in a drunken stupor, she just left us.
Left me.
