Claimed by The Rogue Alpha
Claimed By The Rogue Alpha Chapter 63

==Olivia==

It takes a lot of trauma to make a person believe her captor means well for her. A saviour, if you may. That's Stockholm syndrome, in case you've forgotten...

Stockholm... Was that what this was? Had I mistaken that for attraction? Love? So, all this while, I'd been sick in the head. What could I say though? I was...I was dimwitted. I'd been so intellectually incompetent that I hadn't seen the wrong in my feelings for Matteo. Or rather, I'd known that, but for some reason, I chose not to be bothered. For some f*****g reason.

It'd been confirmed. I was crazy. Not the good or funny kind of crazy, but the bothersome kind. The type that landed people in a mental institution.

Staring blankly at the mirror, I brushed my hair. A plethora of emotions churned deep inside of me, all of which were negative.

There was a part of me that couldn't make sense out of this whole thing. I mean, what I felt for Matteo was real. The emotions, they were strong. I knew how helter-skelter my heart went each time my eyes met his. I knew how defenseless, how wasted I was each time we kissed. I knew those feelings were real. It couldn't be an illusion.

"Isn't that right?" I asked my reflection. "And he feels that way too, right? He's kissed me countless times. And...and the way he looks at me..." I swallowed. "The way he stares at me..." Yes, there had been something in his eyes, something in the way he looked me over. And if I could remember correctly, he'd told me he couldn't let me go.

I gasped. My eyes automatically doubling in size. He couldn't let me go... That was insane. That was insane and I'd interpreted it as love. God. Oh my God.

The brush slipped from my hand, landing on the floor. I covered my mouth. My eyes shut.

I'd f*****g taken the words of a kidnapper to mean love.

Oh my God. My stomach turned. I dashed for the bathroom and threw myself at the toilet bowl. My entire lunch shot out. The entire meal of beef casserole which had this strong gingery flavour that only nauseated me more.

I clutched the toilet seat as I emptied my stomach. Tears were beginning to blur my vision. Exhausted, I slipped to the tiled cold floor with my legs spread out. A lone tear fell from my eye.

How could I be this stupid? This perverse? How could I have changed from a rational thinker to this frail looking bimbo that craved intimacy like her life depended on it? What had happened to being celibate and waiting for the right guy? What?!

What had happened to being a go-getter? What had happened to the hopes of making it into Coyota college, having good and finally starting med school? What the f**k had happened to those dreams? Those aspirations. I'd forgone them, and for what exactly? Was Matteo the only hot guy out there? Was he...what the f**k made him special after all? He didn't replace me special, did he? Of course not, he'd f****d a lady the other day right under my nose.

More tears flowed. Look what my life had become. A total dumpster. Was I ever going to become that family doctor I'd long dreamt of being? Was I gonna get married, have babies and tend that gorgeous little garden Grandma used to have? And as for Pete... Would I still be able to get him the help he needed?

No. The answer was no. I was never going to accomplish any of those. All thanks to my idiocy.

I screamed. Loud. I screamed not minding that I was in the bathroom where a legion of microbes existed. I screamed, not bothered if anyone heard me or not.

"Oh, you are a fool, Olivia. A goddamned idiot!" I punched the ground repeatedly till my fist got sore. "You're a fool."

I slid to the ground. The emotions getting the best of me. And as I laid still, I could only picture my mother.

***

There were many mistakes I'd made in life, but none was as blatant as my behaviour towards my mother.

An instance:

I pushed the door open, stepping into living room. A sigh escaping my lips. I tossed my backpack to the couch beside and kicked off my converse. "Mom?" I got no response. "Mom."

My stomach growled. I was so hungry I could devour an entire turkey. I looked around before deciding to head to the kitchen

"Mom." My gaze stumbled on the counter. There was a covered dish sitting at the centre. I climbed a stool and reached for the dish. Yes, food!

The smile on my face disappeared on learning what was in the plate. "Mashed potatoes?" My noisy stomach didn't help matters.

I leapt from the stool and began stomping off. However, an idea came to me. So, I turned around and walked to the fridge. I pulled it open. The gummy bears mom had bought earlier winked at me. I bit my lips. Mom had warned me not to take those unless she asked me to. But now, left with nothing palatable to eat, I picked the glass jar.

Returning to the living room, I picked up and then, walked towards my room. Halfway through, I met Mom's door that was ajar. Meaning that she probably was home? Anyway... I shrugged off the thoughts and entered my room. I set my bag on the bed and took out the book my substitute teacher had lent me: 60 Fascinating Facts About Dinosaurs.. I plopped on the bed and was set to have the pleasure of a lifetime. Snacking while reading. "You're back."

I turned with my mouth full. Shit. Caught red-handed.

"Uh huh," I muttered, tearing my gaze from her.

She walked in and got close to me. "How was school today?"

"Good." I said, hoping she didn't blow off the gasket.

"You know you aren't supposed to snack without having your meal first."

"Uh huh."

"So, why's your food untouched?"

"Mashed potatoes?" I looked at her.

"Yes. Got a problem with that?"

"We've been having that since Tuesday, Mom. And you know how much I hate mash."

She crossed her arm. Her thin brow lifted to show disapproval. The usual. "Olivia Samantha Schumann. Do you realise there are people out there who don't have the privilege you enjoy? There are people that would die just to have a spoon out of that mash you so hate." "Yeah, right," I muttered, frowning at nothing in particular. "Tell that to the kids in my class."

I didn't get any response from her and so I looked up. Her lips were pinned now.

"Give that to me." She nodded at the jar.

"Mum."

"Now, Olivia."

I glared at her, not making an attempt to comply. She shook her head and went on to grab the jar.

"What's wrong with you? Is this what you learn from that TV show?"

I looked down to my toes. The annoyance in me heightening with each passing second. She turned to leave.

"I wish Dad was here. Right now." I glanced at her. "He's way cooler than you'll ever be."

Mom narrowed her eyes. The intensity in those green orbs of hers unnerved me. She could just smack me across the face.

But she didn't. Instead, she went in shaking her head before walking away.

I sighed, shutting my eyes tight as the tears poured. The incident had taken place as far back as 2010. Yes, I remembered the day as clear as crystal. The image was haunting.

I had insulted mom, not knowing that she wouldn't stay with me for long. Funny how fate could turn up on you. As it turned out-in the space of two years-Mom's health deteriorated.

I hadn't been the perfect daughter after all. There were so many more instances I had been nasty. Like the time I woke up one morning and decided to toss out my last name-my Dad's name-and take up a much better one. 'Cause apparently, 'Schumann' was a sure pass to being the butt of a joke. Some might argue that I was young then. C'mon, what could a ten-year-old possibly know? Well, a lot. A hell lot.

Each time Mom scolded or refused to indulge me, I'd blow hot, letting her know I preferred the company of my dad than hers. Mom, on her part, wasn't fazed. Or maybe, she was, but never really displayed her emotions in my presence. And mom, she didn't appear to be moved. She would go ahead to serve me my due punishment which either was reduced screen time or grounding. tame me, giving me the punishment I had deserved. When Pete came into our lives, he treated me like a princess. Dotted on me like I was his child, and just like that the void Dad left was filled.

It wasn't until Mom fell sick that I appreciated her relevance. It wasn't until then that I realised I'd been foolish. And in a matter of months, she was gone. The cancer had appeared from no freaking where and had taken her away. But in all, I got to admit, I deserved that. Mom didn't deserve to be close to a person like me. And incorrigible, self-absorbed ingrate like me. She didn't, one bit.

This was karma. It made sense now. I shouldn't hold Pete to ransom; he was just a vessel Fate had used to repay me in kind.