× Sinful boys × [ COMPLETED ]

Chapter two

Tristan opened the door and stepped in. He closed the door after him and took his shoes off. "Kiddo!" his big brother, Elijah, greeted while walking towards him, eating a piece of bread at the same time. "Hey", he mumbled. "Did you bring the stuff we asked for while being out in the town?" Elijah asked. "Yep, everything should be in this", he said and gave a ragged sack that he carried around to his brother. "Thank you Tris", Elijah said, took the sack and walked away.

He leaned against the wall and looked at the fire in the fireplace for a while. Empty feeling filled Tristan but soon it disappeared when he turned his face back to look at his brothers.

Elijah, the oldest (19)
Jacob, the second child (17)
Elliot, third child (16)
(Tristan is the fourth child, 15)
And finally Filiph (12)

Tristan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Finally he was home, away from those mean people in town. Before Elliot even got his mouth open Tris answered to his question: "no. They still hate us."
Elliot closed his mouth. He was about to ask if it was finally enough safe for them to go out to the town to continue their school but of course it was not. "Look, Elliot we understand you want to go to school and stuff like back in the old days but as long as the whole town would like to tear our heads off it's better to stay in here, far away from them", Elijah said. Elliot nodded but stayed quiet, like he would wonder about something by himself.

"Yeah it's better to stay here so the king dosen't  kick us out of the village yet", Filiph said, looking scared of just the thought. No one said anything. "You know what? I will go get us some fire wood to use", Tristan said. "But we-" Jacob started but got quiet when Elijah pushed him with his hand. "Let him go, he needs some time", Elijah whispered.

He walked outside and even though now he couldn't really see anything he walked to their small woodshed and started to make some more fire woods with an axe. I hate how much we get hate even though we do nothing, Tristan thought and hit the wood to pieces. It's not our fault that mom died! They should have been here and see by their own eyes that we couldn't do anything! He thought but soon regretted when a sound in the back of his head woke up and started to speak:

"Yeah Tristan. Your mom is dead, but did you ever think that it might have been your fault?"

He dropped the axe on the ground. "Shut up", he whispered and started looking around like he would have thought someone could hear.

"But it's true Tristan, have you ever thought about it? She might have done that because of you",  the voice said.

Tristan slapped himself to make the voice quiet but it only started laughing at him.

"Tristan! You have to come inside! We got a letter, you have to see it!"