The Long Lost Omega (Knots and Nests #3)
Chapter 1
Safira
Today was my birthday. In theory, it should have been an exciting day, or at least not an average one. But it always filled me with dread. Every year, without fail, I’d either be forgotten or disappointed on the one day that was supposed to celebrate me. I stared up at the ceiling in my room, not wanting to get out of bed just yet. I lived in the basement, my room hurriedly put together when I first arrived at this house. After I’d been here for so many years, it still looked nearly the same way as it did the day I arrived. I finally put my feet down on the tattered rug beneath my bed. The floor was concrete - no one ever got around to putting in carpet.
My parents died when I was ten, and the only living relatives that could take me in were my mom’s distant cousin and her family. They hadn’t been too happy about taking me on, but they were the only family I had. At least Lisa, my mom’s cousin, had given me the old rug to use. It shielded my feet from the cold floor, but I still dreaded getting up some days.
I stood and stretched, wondering if I’d still be in charge of cleaning up after everyone had finished breakfast. Somehow Lisa always seemed to forget what day my birthday was, no matter how many times I mentioned it. Her husband Ralph rarely even spoke to me. He preferred to pretend I didn’t exist, and I was happy to oblige. I walked over to the stairs, the footsteps of everyone else thudding as they moved about the house. No matter how hard I tried to sleep in, it was too noisy to get enough rest on the weekends. Step by step, I made my way up to the top of the staircase and opened the door.
The kitchen was a mess. Lisa and Ralph had already made coffee, and I could see that their kids, my own “cousins,” had made themselves food. Dishes and leftover food droppings covered the table. I walked over to the fridge, preparing to make myself some eggs. A frown crossed my face as I saw that the fresh carton I bought was nowhere to be found. Turning around to look at the mess of the kitchen table, I was fairly sure that some of the remnants of breakfast were scrambled eggs. Anger started to build in my stomach. I’d worked hard at the mall ever since I was sixteen to buy my own food. If I didn’t, I would be chastised for eating too much of Lisa and Ralph’s “hard earned food.’ It was just easier to take care of myself once I could earn my own money. But ever since I graduated High School, Lisa and Ralph started to demand rent money for housing me each month. That left me with very little leftover for other purchases.
“Has anyone seen the eggs I bought?” I asked with a hint of annoyance, watching them all in the living room as they flipped through various reality shows that were on. Jeremy, their middle child, just grinned as he scraped his plate with a fork, taking a bite of bacon and what looked suspiciously like scrambled eggs. Lisa didn’t even bother looking back at me as she answered.
“Oh, Safira, you should try to wake up earlier for breakfast! It’s your own fault if there’s nothing left.” Lisa’s words made my blood run hot with anger. But I couldn’t do anything. I had to rely on them until I could get my own place, and with rents as high as they were it would be a long time until I had any way to get out of this situation. And that meant I had to play by their rules, as unfair as they were.
Hailey, their oldest daughter, got up from the couch and walked toward the kitchen, throwing her plate into the sink and turning to head back to the living room without even looking at me. When I glanced at the sink, I cringed at the number of dirty dishes I’d have to clean. I’d always thought it wasn’t fair that I had to clean up after their kids too. I knew Hailey was intentionally extra sloppy just to make more work for me. She was a year older and went to the local community college. Her parents didn’t make her pay rent. In fact, she didn’t have to pay for anything. They funded her education, living expenses, and anything else she, Jeremy, and Shiloh, their youngest, wanted. I felt like a live-in servant most of the time. I tried to stay quiet as I slowly started cleaning up, my stomach growling with hunger. But I didn’t want to stick around and make breakfast after they used most of my food. I was too upset.
I went back downstairs to hide once I was done cleaning. My birthday so far was a bust. I laid back on my bed, thinking about the last time I’d had a real celebration. It was when I turned ten, before the accident that took my parents. We always celebrated first thing in the morning, my dad making me his famous breakfast of pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate chips. Then they spent the rest of the day with me, making me feel loved. At night, I’d get a cake and open my presents while my parents sang to me. It was something so simple, yet I took it for granted. I didn’t realize how good I had it back then.
Lisa and Ralph didn’t want me coming into their lives and disrupting everything. I was a traumatized, lonely child, and they weren’t happy about taking me in. They’d resented it ever since. I’d been relegated to the basement, tucked away like their old furniture, holiday decorations and other things they wanted out of sight. It wasn’t easy growing up with them. Their kids always came first, which I understood. But I didn’t get any attention at all, unless it was to be ordered around to clean up after the rest of them. When I was a kid, I was so lost and sad about my parents that I didn’t argue and just did what they told me to do. But over time, I realized that I’d never be loved or supported by my relatives.
No matter what I did, they never seemed to care about me in the slightest. Even at my new school, my ‘cousins’ went from being embarrassed about having to explain my sudden appearance, to flat out bullying me. It was hard to make friends, and my life consisted of just trying to get by day to day. I spent my days holed up in my room, but Lisa didn’t think I needed therapy for any of my trauma. If I cried in front of my cousins, they’d just call me a crybaby and make fun of me. I’d gone from having a great home with plenty of friends, to just trying to get by. I became accustomed to shrinking myself, trying not to get noticed. It only brough negative attention. Especially if I did anything that was perceived to be better than one of my cousins.
I mentally flashed back to the time that I had won first place in the art fair. I wasn’t even trying to win. I’d just painted in class like I was told, drawn to the dark colors and the therapeutic way I could splash my emotions out onto the canvas. Everyone in the class had their pieces entered. When my teacher announced I’d won first place, she praised my work, saying I visually conveyed a depth of emotion that was rare in someone so young. I was as shocked as anyone that I had won, but when I ran home to show Lisa and Ralph my work, Lisa wasn’t proud. She was upset. I remembered her words vividly.
“You’re not as talented as Hailey. It’s upsetting that the teacher focused more on sympathy than rewarding the students who could actually do something with their talent.” she said, her voice dropping in disappointment. I felt ill, my stomach roiling as she denigrated my one win. “Your cousin will be so upset. It’s a shame to waste a prize like this, no matter how much your teacher wants to feel bad for you.”
That night I stayed downstairs in my room. I heard the rest of the family go on and on about my prize at dinner, saying how it wasn’t fair, that it was a pity prize and other nasty things. I stopped listening and just stayed out of sight, my stomach hurting from both anxiety and hunger. But I didn’t dare face them. The rest of the week, it seemed nothing I did was right. No matter how hard I tried, I got passive aggressive remarks from the whole family. I learned then and there not to stand out too much. It only made life harder.
As I retreated to the basement, I took solace in the fact that I could at least get some relaxation. It was Saturday, and thankfully I had the day off from my retail job. I waited until most of the household left to go about their plans for the day before coming upstairs to finish cleaning the rest of the living spaces. At least when they were gone, I could cook and eat without all of them ignoring me or acting like I was a nuisance. I didn’t have many friends from school, partially due to the bullying and partially due to my own introversion. When I graduated, I didn’t have enough money to attend college like Hailey. Lisa and Ralph certainly weren’t going to pay for it. So I spent my time working to save up for when I could finally get out.
Someday I would get away from them and have enough security to start living my own life. I would be able to explore hobbies, make friends, and do whatever I wanted without someone always passive aggressively tearing me down. I didn’t have a lot of good memories since my parents passed. But I did have a few I could hold on to.
As I did my chores, my mind drifted back to the one time when I’d felt accepted, when I met people who treated me like I was not just normal, but extraordinary. It was one of the few good memories I had, a time when I felt like I fully belonged. I visited that memory on occasion, just to remind myself that a better life was out there. My memories replayed that day in the woods like an old, favorite movie, taking me far away from my life and into an emotional state that got me through any of my rough days.