Burning Desire

00

2007

Thunder and lightning clashed overhead as Tristan cried into his mother's pajama shirt. They sat on his bed, if you could even call the ratty mattress on the floor that, the seven year old child crying loudly in fear.

"It's too loud," Tristan screamed, his voice carrying through the basement where he slept as thundered cracked even louder and making him wince. "Mommy, make the sounds stop! They're too loud!"

"Shh, baby, calm down," Tristan's mother, Tia soothed, cuddling her baby and and ignoring the wet tear stains on her pajamas. "It's just thunder. Sound can't hurt you."

"B-But daddy is always l-l-loud before he hits," Tristan cried, screaming and burying his face in his mom's shirt when a flash of lightning illuminated the small window in the basement.

Tia sighed. "That's because daddy is like lightning," she said in a sad voice. "He doesn't mean to, baby, it's just part of who he is. Lightning rarely hits people, but when it does, it leaves a mark."

"You say I can't hit when I'm mad!" Tristan argued, his tears pausing when he felt a wave of anger wash over him. "That's not fair!"

"Because I want you to be like thunder, baby," Tia said, rocking Tristan in her lap. "You can be mad, you can yell and cry like the clouds do and make a lot of noise when you're mad, but you never hit."

Tristan sniffled and touched one of the bruises on his mother's neck. "Then why do you let daddy?" he asked, Tia wincing as he touched the purple mark. "My teacher says we don't hurt people at all, even if we don't like them."

"Your daddy loves me," Tia said, almost glaring at the seven year old as she fought to feel more secure about herself. "He loves us both very much, but sometimes he gets upset so he hits."

Tristan hung his head under his mom's glare. "He hit me," he said in a small voice. "Daddy hit me when I spilled my water."

"I know," Tia said, kissing Tristan's forehead. "That's why you don't go around daddy, baby. You stay down here where you're safe because daddy doesn't like coming down here."

Nodding, Tristan remembered the first thing his mom had told him after his dad hit him for spilling water and getting in the angry man's way:

Hide whenever daddy is home. If daddy sees you, he might hit you, and we don't want anyone to see the marks. Especially other adults, because then they'd make Tristan leave mommy, and mommy needs Tristan.

The front door slammed open and shut upstairs, the sound of heavy boots hitting the ground.

Tristan hated that sound, because a lot of the time, mommy's screams followed it.

"Don't leave, mommy," he said, clinging onto her as she tried to stand up. "I'm scared, it's too loud!"

"Tia! Where the hell are you at?!" Brahms, Tristan's father screamed.

Tia tensed up. "I'm downstairs. Tristan wasn't feel good so I stayed down here with him," she called back, trying to get Tristan to let go of her. "I'll be right up."

"No!" Tristan sobbed, his terror of being left alone making his heart race. "Stay!"

"Tristan Star Raymond, let go right now," Tia hissed, inhaling sharply when she heard heavy footsteps come down the stairs. "Let go! Baby, daddy's here and you need to go to sleep."

Tristan cried even harder when she spoke to him in an angry tone. He didn't mean to make his mommy mad, and he wanted to say sorry.

What if he didn't see her the next day because she was hurt and couldn't come down to get him?