Page 1 of Forget

Chapter 1

Aisling

Gazing at my mother’s sightless blue eyes as she lays on the couch, I’m hit with horror and sadness. Life wasn’t always perfect with her, but I had someone who loved me fiercely. I never had any doubt about this.

Everything she ever did was for my safety, benefit, and happiness.

She worked hard for the meager food we have in the fridge, the threadbare apartment was always clean, and Mom was up in the morning to send me off to school, even if she’d barely had any sleep the night before.

I try to contribute too. I have an afterschool job that I’m really proud of, even if it is only part time.

On the other hand, we also keep a really low profile. Mom never wanted me in any clubs or performances at school that would call attention to us, because she didn’t want anyone to find us. I have no idea who my dad is either. He could be a deadbeat or a criminal for all I know!

God, what am I going to do?

My thoughts are spiraling, and I can’t afford to lose my shit when I know that reality won’t wait for my grief.

“Mom, if I tell someone, they’ll kick me out,” I whisper, shaking my head as I reach out with trembling fingers and gently close her eyelids. I read once that some cultures put coins on the eyes of the dead to keep them closed.

I pray she doesn’t open them back up, because I won’t be able to function.

“God, what happened to you?”

I’m sixteen, but today was an early release day due to a teacher planning day. I was excited to see if she’d want to go to the diner to have milkshakes and burgers, my treat. I aced my math test and I was excited to celebrate.

Everything was going so well today… until now. Sometimes, my mom would complain of severe headaches, and I would try to bug her to go to the doctor. She would tell me she was fine, that doctors just cost money that we don’t have, but I kept after her until she ended up in the hospital for three days last year.

We lost the apartment we were living in at the time because the landlord didn’t believe me when I said she would be home soon.

The guy was a swinging dick of an alpha, but as soon as Mom got out, she got us into another place, even if we did spend two days in a homeless shelter. It was a miracle she found a shelter to even take us, because some of them dislike the ‘drama’ that can occur when omegas are in a closed space with so many other people due to their pheromones. No matter what, I trusted her to fix it. Whatever “it” was.

Was she sick? Did she lie to me in an effort to keep me safe as long as possible? God, why couldn’t we have nice things like insurance and copays?

Falling back onto my ass, I stare sightlessly at the wall, as my mind reels with what this means. I can’t pay for this apartmentalone. Fuck, I’m going to get kicked out, because I’m a minor. I can see it as plain as day now.

Closing my eyes, I lay my cheek on my drawn up knees, trying to think. Mom paid rent today, but that won’t mean anything to the meathead who is our landlord if he realizes I’m an underaged orphan.

Taking a hesitant breath, I will myself to get up and see if I can get an extra shift atBrewed Awakening, the coffee shop I work at. If I’m getting kicked out soon, I’m going to need to start getting a handle on my life.

Just get up and move… Blinking away the fire behind my eyelids, I lift my head, looking over at my mom. She looks so peaceful, as if she was sleeping before she died. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of head wound or reason for this to have happened.

She just… left me.

I don’t know whether to scream or cry right now. I should worry that her eyes were open, but I read in biology class recently that after the muscles relax after death, the eyelids can release and the eyes will open. It’s why I’m wishing so damn hard that they’ll stay closed now.

My mom’s shiny red hair curls in pretty ringlets on the pillow, and I struggle to remember every detail about her.

Her pretty blue eyes were so full of life, and she was tall and curvy. She loved to laugh, saw the good in bad situations, and was fiercely protective. Mom was notoriously clumsy, but when she danced, it was like magic.

We spent a lot of time dancing in our living room. I’m not naive enough, though, to believe it wasn’t the kind of dancing that brought money in.

I’m holding onto every single thing about her. I don’t want to forget.

“Why can’t I be older?” I rasp. Things would be so much easier if I was, but I unfortunately don’t believe I have a sensual bone in my body.

Blowing out a breath, I force myself to stand, gazing down at her.What happened to you Mom? Did you know this was coming?

It feels wrong to rifle through the paperwork in her room, but it may be what needs to happen, so that I can get answers. She can’t tell me anything anymore. Steeling myself for what I’m going to have to do, I hurry to my room to call my boss, to see if he needs the extra help. It seems callous to be focused on this, but I’m on borrowed time.

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