I am an Omega, and my name is Veronica. I wasn’t always an Omega but to be honest whatever status my family and I have I don’t really care. There isn’t much distinction in treatment except for the few but mostly life is great. When I mean great, I mean a life with ease and not much complication. We started out a Beta family our dad was a great beta until a rogue attack left him permanently injured. Because of his injury he had to step down and let a new Beta take his place.
When my father stepped down Alpha Red had every intention of letting us live in the pack house still but Beta Big had to have room for him and his ego. He even had the rooms on his floor expanded and his wing was under construction for a few years until it was to his liking. So, we had to move out. Our only remaining family in the pack was my hippie grandparents that lived in a cabin close to the pack border where they lived off the land and did as little depending on the pack as possible. There was no bad blood they just liked to keep to themselves. So, suffice to say there was an adjustment, not so much for me I loved it. I loved all the space and nature and learning how to grow things. My grandma was a great teacher. But it was hard for my sister Felicia. We are very different I liked being outside and didn’t care about how I looked. I wore what was comfortable and affordable. She is the social butterfly and was very fashionable. At times she was a trend setter in our pack now back then she was starting to become her own person.
At the time of our move, I was 10 and she was 7, she was getting into her girly girl phase where everything had to be pink with lace and ruffles and fancy dresses and cute hair dos. I was not a tom boy by any means I was just low maintenance. My dad and grandparents made a deal we could move into the cabin, which was just big enough for them, if my dad fixed things around the house and built an addition. In exchange my grandparents would drive my mom to work and Felicia and I to the bus stop in their old VW. The school bus didn’t go as far out as my grandparents’ place. It took dad a full 4 years of repressed pain, sleepless nights, and buckets of sweat to complete the repairs and add onto the house. Once a cabin now it was a two-story home.
The day came when the house was done, I was excited to see my dad’s hard work. My sister on the other hand was relieved to finally have her own space. We had spent the last four years listening to her incessant complaining. My dad rounded us up in the living room and made us wait for everyone to be there with full attention.
“Ok Veronica, since you have been such a good sport about sharing a room so long. You get the first pick on your room.” Dad said with a grin. I could feel my sister’s annoyance. But I wasn’t going to say anything and rile her up. I looked at him and mom not sure if it was a good idea for me to pick first. But something told me that he had already decided for us, and this was just for show.
I tentatively walked up the stairs and wondered the halls, dad refused to let us go up here until he was completely finished so I had no idea what he had done. I was astounded but not surprised by his handy work. He left no detail untouched it was all so wonderful. I found a room medium-ish in size with a huge window facing the forest and a beautiful window seat and a perfect sized closet. I knew instantly he made it special for me. My suspicion was confirmed when I strolled into the other medium sized room that had a walk in closet a little bigger than a bathroom. I knew who had that many clothes and it wasn’t me. I walked to the top of the stairs. “It’s wonderful dad. You did a great job. I don’t know if I can sleep in it though. It perfect a little too perfect…” He chuckled as he sauntered up the stairs. “Your right, you got me it’s all a trick. Let’s go back to your living room makeshift sheet room.” He was the hardest working person I knew, well come to think of it all my family was except for Felicia. Since he couldn’t ‘work’ any more my mom stepped up and took the kitchen manager position that opened soon after we had moved out of the pack house. My mom loved to cook and spent more time in the kitchen then the kitchen manager did when we lived there. So, it only made sense.
“Can I start moving my stuff?” Felicia asked eagerly.
“Of course. Grandma and grandpa will help you and your sister bring your stuff up.” I could hear mom say to her.
The rest of the day was spent moving and arranging and laughing and admiring all of dad’s hard work. Grandma and I sat in the wind seat as soon as all my stuff was moved up. I grabbed a stack of books and she just sat there for the rest of the day reading to me. I didn’t know at the time but that is the last memory I would have of them.