Page 2 of Conflicting Lyrics (Heartbreak Melody #1)

“Supper was delicious, Mom. Thanks again,” I tell her, smiling after swallowing the last bite of my food.

“Of course.” She smiles tightly back at me.

“I’m just going to wash the dishes, then head up to my room for the night.” I place my fork on my plate and get up from the table.

She frowns. “And do what?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” I shrug, heading over to the sink. I’m trying to ignore the way my stomach is fighting the food I just forced down and the anxiety that wants to consume me. “Maybe do some reading, or get an early night's rest. It was a long day.”

A long day filled with nothing but crippling anxiety. A feeling that I know isn’t going to be leaving me anytime soon. Not until I’m safely out of this house without any suspicion from my parents.

“A long day that I hope was well worth it,” my father speaks up. My spine stiffens, hand freezing as I turn the water on.

“Of course.” I force a fake bravado. “I’m confident I aced all of my exams.” Lies, lies, lies. I have convinced myself that I failed and my life will be derailed. Gotta love the mind of an overthinker.

The only time the worrying thoughts leave my mind is when I’m with Ally. Just being in her presence settles something inside me. Her smile, her laugh, her carefree look on life.

The way she never lets anything get in the way of what she wants.

I wish I could be more like her.

“Good,” my father grunts. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“I know.” That's the problem.

Once the dishes are washed, dried, and put away, I make a dash for my room. My spine stiffens when my mother speaks again, just as I reach the bottom step.

“Lucinda,” she calls out from the living room.

“Yes?” I call back, my heart racing.

“Make sure you read your daily passages. Pastor Don will be reviewing them on Sunday.”

“Yeah. For sure,” I answer back, stomach sinking at the idea of going to church.

Not wanting to give her the chance to ask anything else of me, I rush up the stairs until I’m safely behind closed doors.

Letting out a heavy breath, I tuck my hair behind my ears and go over to my cell phone that's plugged in on the bedside table.

If possible, I try to avoid using it anytime I’m around my parents. They always ask what I’m doing and who I’m talking to. And if they suspect anything, they demand to see my phone.

When I open my lock screen, I smile down at the photo. It’s a picture of a daisy.

“Here.” Ally bends over, plucking a small white daisy from the ground. She stands up and smiles. My heart flutters in my chest as she steps closer. “A pretty flower for a pretty girl.” She winks before tucking the stem behind my ear.

“You’re so crazy.” I laugh, trying to brush it off like it’s just a silly, playful moment, when really, on the inside, my heart is going crazy.

This girl is my whole world, the light in my endless darkness, the only thing that keeps me feeling sane in a house full of crazy. And she doesn’t even know it.

Blinking my eyes, I pull myself out of the memory. One I’ve held onto a lot harder than I should have.

The notification letting me know I have a new text has me rushing to open my messages.

I don’t have Ally’s number saved in my phone. If my parents found out I was talking to her, I’d be in a whole heap of trouble. It’s messed up, and I hate it. I hate them.

Is it possible to both love someone and hate everything about them?

They don’t like Ally, and never really have. They say she’s too wild, that she’s on the road to do the devil’s work. They hate her parents even more because of who they are. Three Alphas and an Omega.

In their eyes, they live the life of an ultimate sinner.

In my parents' beliefs, Alphas and Omegas are abominations. They believe that it should be a man and a woman together. No other pairings. Only one man, one woman, in a monogamous relationship.

They believe that Alpha and Omegas are sex driven heathens, that they are animals who only care about primal instincts. Omegas are nothing but whores for wanting more than one man in their bed.

Don’t even get me started on same sex relationships. They believe it’s just as corrupt. That if it’s any pairing other than a male Beta and female Beta together, they’re going to be damned to hell.

I’ve lived surrounded by this kind of mentality my whole life. And up until meeting Ally, I believed it.

But deep down inside, I knew something wasn't right. They preach kindness and help thy neighbor, but only when it comes to Betas? How is that right?

It’s not. And the older I got, the more I saw their corruption, saw how sick the mentality of my parents and their church really was.

But I had to play along, act like their perfect daughter, letting them believe I thought the same way.

I don’t, and I hate everything about their beliefs.

This house has always felt more like a prison, one where if I make one wrong move, I’d be punished.

There’s only ever been one thing that's made me feel safe, that's felt like home. And that's her.

Over the past two years, my feelings for Ally have become more muddled. Confusion doesn’t even come close to describing them.

It wasn’t until I found Ally in the school bathroom making out with one of our female classmates that I realised I was jealous. I was, but I was also hurt. I had no right to be. She was supposed to be my friend, it shouldn’t matter what she did with other people.

But I knew, at that moment, my feelings for her went way beyond just friendship. I was in love with her. And that scared the shit out of me.

My confusion grew as time went on, and I realized I wasn’t attracted to any other girl. Just her.

Boys have always caught my eye, but I knew better than to even try to date. I couldn’t, it wasn’t worth the risk of my parents finding out.

They don’t believe in dating until presenting. Because the mere thought of potentially being with someone who could end up being an Omega or Alpha makes them sick.

To them, I’m to become a Beta—like I have a say in that matter—and I’m meant to marry a nice male Beta from the church, living out our lives like my parents do.

The sick part is, they already have someone picked out for me. Bret Timber. A guy my age, who, of course, goes to our church and is one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met.

There’s no way in hell I’d ever marry that guy. I’d rather be disowned.

Thankfully, it’s not some old-timey, messed-up marriage contract bullshit, and my parents did inform me that if I were to find another nice man from one of our churches and fell in love with him, they would allow it.

They are allowing me to leave for college, but once I graduate, they expect me to come back home, get married, settle down, and start my life.

It’s something I don’t let myself think about.

Any time I do, an overwhelming wave of dread consumes me, suffocating me to the point I feel trapped with no way out, that’s followed by an urge to claw at my skin.

I’m trapped and I don’t know how to escape. Moving with Ally, which is something my parents aren't even aware of, is a temporary fix to my lifelong sentence in this hell.

“Two more weeks,” I whisper as I click on the text from a number that I’ve memorized by heart. “Two more weeks and you can breathe.”

Allycat: How long until we can commence jailbreak?

Smiling, I shake my head and type back.

Me: Two hours? Both of them have to work early, so I don’t think it will be long before they’re in bed for the night.

I press send and chew on my bottom lip, glancing up at my bedroom door as I wait for her response.

I hate how this is how it has to be, like I’m doing something wrong. I’m not. Ally isn’t a bad person, her parents aren't horrible people.

But to my parents, they are.

When the phone buzzes in my hand, I jolt, eyes snapping back down to the screen.

Allycat: Ugh. Okay, fine. I’ll be outside at our meeting point waiting for you in exactly two hours. XOXO

My belly flutters at the end of her response. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, demanding that I push down these feelings.

It’s never going to happen. I need to get over this silly little crush, or it’s going to be torture when we leave for California.

Texting her back ‘okay’, I delete the messages, causing a wave of guilt to hit me like it always does when I do this.

My photo album on my phone is filled with nothing but photos of nature. Not a single selfie of me or Ally.

To someone else, they might not mean anything. I’m just taking photos of things I think are pretty, but what they don’t know is every photo is connected to a time I was hanging out with Ally.

Now, if you were to look at Ally’s phone, that would be a completely different story. It’s filled with endless selfies of us. Photos of me. It was something she always demanded every time we saw each other.

Knowing that she, at the very least, had a million memories saved away gives me some sort of relief. The idea of not having any proof of our years of friendship is just plain depressing.

Placing my phone down on my side table, I go over to my closet and pick out something to wear.

I frown when I’m done looking through everything I have, letting out an annoyed breath.

Nothing that I own would be considered party attire.

It’s literally everything a little virgin, church girl would wear.

I hate them all. It’s not the style I want. But if I wore what I liked, my parents would ground me, call me a whore or slut, then drag me down to the church for my sins to be prayed away.

It’s not worth the fight; I just wear what my mother buys me.

Settling on the decently cute yellow sundress, I pull it off the hanger, fold it up, and shove it under my bed.

Grabbing some PJs, I throw them on and head downstairs to say goodnight to my parents.

Once I’m back in my room, I shut the lights off, get into bed, and wait.

Tears slowly leak from my eyes as I stare out my window. Why me? Why was I born into a family like this? Deep down, I know I’ll never survive this life they’ve set me up for.

Eventually, I’ll go crazy.