The Weight of Coming Home
Tristan hated coming home. When he came home, he had to face his parents, with their unmeetable high expectations, and their yells. He was the youngest of three, and he felt the full brunt of his parents' anger, mainly his father’s.
The only thing that kept him alive was Lily. It was horrible not talking to her, but Aaron, his best friend, said it was for the better. She gave him a necklace – charm is a better word – that he always kept in his pocket and clutched when he was in need of someone. There was a fat, one inch star on it that was as pale as the moon. It hung from a brown, leather string.
He loved Lily with all his heart, but never managed to talk to her. Either, Aaron purposely avoided her, or she tensed and went the other direction. If only she knew that she saved his life. That small, stupid charm he gave her when they were ten, saved him. It was childish, but he still clutched it every night and morning, every time his father yelled at him for doing something.
Sighing, he toyed with it as he made his way home. A large, oak tree protected it, and the walls were a bleak gray with an intricate pattern of tiles on the roof. Tristan went in, and rolled his eyes as he saw his older sister’s expression. His older brother, Matthew, was off in college, but his sister, Michelle, was there, and she was two years younger than him. Michelle had a forced smile on her face.
“You should just go to your room,” She told him gently. Tristan saw her rubbing her side.
“What did he do?” Tristan asked. Michelle shook her head, her dark hair flowing out in dark waves. All three of them got their father’s hair, a dark color. He had straight hair, while his mother had curly hair. Tristan inherited his mother’s curls. His curls went into his eyes.
Tristan sighed and went up to his room as silently as he could. He slugged his backpack off his shoulders and reached for the door. He froze when he heard footsteps, his father’s, stomping downstairs. “Mikayla!” He yelled
“Michelle,” Tristan’s sister replied in a quiet voice. Panic rose through him, but he decided to close the door. He heard her scream a few minutes later.