Character Draft

Character Development cont.

"Tristan, Tristan wake up." Slowly I start to open my eyes allowing light to leak in. I sit up groggy trying to figure out where I am. "Tristan when you blacked out you hit your head, are you okay." I start to realize that it's Elysa talking to me. I open my mouth to speak but it felt like my mouth was full of cotton. "How long was I out," I mutter. "Two days." Ok new voice has to be Emmett what's he doing here, why would he care about whether or not I'm okay. "Wait five days I have to get home," I say with realization, "my mother, my father." "Hey Tristan, let me give you a ride then, I can't let you drive right now," Emmett says slowly helping me get to my feet. I give Elysa a hug goodbye, and thank her for her for her help, "Stay safe little fiddler," she says as a joke but it's just as sympathetic. "Violinist," I remind her. Emmett helps me down the stair and into his car. "Wait my jacket," I say worried. "Already got it," Emmett says laughing. "Thanks," I say mumbling. The ride home is quiet and slightly awkward. About twenty minutes later we reach my house. He puts the car in park and turns toward me. "Stay safe okay Tristan, believe it or not I consider you a close friend." He says this smiling so I assume its genuine. "I'll try but you know me, I never have been one to stay safe, but thanks you're a good guy." I get out of the car and walk up to the door. Turning around to watch him leave and knowing what's going to be on the other side of the door. I was almost tempted to stop him and leave, but instead of being a bother I watched him turn around the corner. I turn back to the door and open it and walk in. As I turn to close it I feel a sharp sting across my cheek from a belt. I wince and close my eyes to stop the tears from brimming. "Hello mother," I say as I feel the blood start to form from the blunt cut that was just delivered to my face. "Where have you been," she screams and proceeds to beat me across the back with the belt. With each blow I know I deserve it. "I'm sorry," I barely make the words out through the gasps. "Please stop, I know I messed up, but are you okay, where's dad," I plead trying to think of a way to alleviate the pain. "Your father wants to talk to you too, he's on the living room," she says out if breath. So seeing this as a chance to escape from her, I walk into the living room. As I walk in I feel a painfully dull blow land right below my eye. I fall to the floor shocked, and I look up to see my father. He's holding a beer bottle in his left hand and you could see he was drunk from the expression on his face. "Where were you," he us slurring his speech to the point where I could barely understand him. "I'm sorry," I say again expecting more blows from his heavy fist. None came, and that terrified me even more. I look up again and he is taking off his belt, slowly, I can hear the leather sliding against the denim and a little pop as it comes loose from each loop. He holds his hand out. "Hands," he says with malice. I put my hand out to his and he grabs my wrist and forces my hand open, with my palm up. He raises the belt and swings it down onto the palm of my hand. Once, twice, three times, four times, five times he's done with that hand so with anger I put my left hand out and he grabs my wrist again. I wince and he force my hand open, palm up again. This time it's seven times he hits my palm. He pushes me onto the floor and kicks me in the stomach. I don't cry, not yet I slowly let him exert his energy and when he's done he tells me to get up and go to my room. I head up to the attic, which is a pretty poor excuse for a room, but it's secluded. I lay on the Japanese style mat on my floor and let the tears loose. I feel my eye start swelling and the tears are burning the cut on my cheek, but I continue to cry. One day I'll be free, but this now is all my fault I have never been good enough, for anyone. Never goos enough for a girlfriend, I'm definitely not good enough for Elysa and Emmett. So either I'll die alone or will just live alone with my violin and try to make people who will listen feel things with my music.
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Man okay so this was kind of hard to write, and it was kind of intense, but this is what happens to Tristan on a regular basis. Do you think it's his fault or is there blame going to the parents? Luna I hope you like it, even though it's intense. Will something happen to Tristan and he meets someone or will he be alone, only Luna knows...