THE TOWER ━ stranger things

07.

chapter seven — a broken home and bloody nose

"¿Qué hiciste? ¿Por qué lloraba tu hermana?" Sofia questioned her son sharply, sending him a daring glare. He knew his mothers wrath all too well, but his vision was just as red as hers and he wasn't going to cower like some child. His cold eyes matched the breeze that blew in from the back door.

"We were just talking." Mateo grumbled, already moving past his mother to the living room.

"Hey!" Her hand gripped his arm, "I'm talking to you and by the way, you're not a very good liar so start talking." She said, crossing her arms as he turned to look glare at her.

"It's not my fault she's sensitive." He spat. Sofia sighed and her son thought that for a moment that he was off the hook, but he must have forgotten exactly who his mother was and the gifts she held.

"I know you said something to her and you can tell me now or tomorrow morning while you help me clean the house." His head popped up at her response and he threw his hands out with a huff.

"It wasn't like I said anything that was wrong." He argued as his mother turned to lower the heat on the stove.

Sofia pursed her lips as she peered up at her son; he reeked of pride. He wore the face of his father and it made the conversation ten times harder to have. Her husband always had something to say about their daughter's gift. She knew as their son got older he observed their arguments with a heavier gaze – analyzing their words, looking for context clues to lead him to the topics of their discussions. He had idolized his father and when he left he was heartbroken. Irene tried and tried to comfort him but he always responded with anger and frustration.

She knows that he blames Irene for the divorce – her husband did. It wasn't fair and she refused to let her son go down the same path – she wasn't going to let him walk away from someone that loved him unconditionally.

She sighed again, her anger subsiding as it was replaced by sadness. Mateo stood completely in front of her now, looking at her with impatience etched into his features. Her hands found his shoulders as she shook her head, "You can't keep blaming your sister for something she didn't do – something she had no control over." This made her son scoff, turning in frustration as he ran his hand through his hair. Her hands fell to her sides. The flash of pain that flickered behind her brown eyes had no effect on him.

"All of your fights were because of her, were they not? Every time we moved it was because she was bullied or because she got into fights at school or she was spouting some vision to the teacher and they reported her. All of it was her fault. " He responded coldly, taking a step back from his mother who shook her head furiously.

"You don't understand and neither did your father. I was born like this and so was your sister; neither of us asked for it. The world wasn't ready then and maybe it's not ready now, but we can't just change who we are for the sake of other people's comfort." Sofia drew her eyebrows together as she explained, "I've done that for far too long and I refused to let your sister's flame die out and I would've done the exact same if it was you."

"Well, it wasn't me so I guess you got lucky." Mateo seethed, turning away from his mother and angrily grabbing his jacket he threw on the couch. He was distancing himself; deeper feelings rose to the surface of his heart and he was pushing them back down. Sofia placed a comforting hand on her son's shoulder again and wished she could fix whatever had broke inside him years ago when the fights first began.

"What's going on, Teo? You can talk to me." She whispered gently.

He shook her hand off of his shoulder and clutched his jacket, squeezing his watery eyes shut. He'd be damned if he let his mom know how he was really feeling about the gift skipping his generation, "It doesn't matter, just drop it already."