Glistening in the Moonlight

Chapter Two

Tom Barton was eighteen years old and the most sought after boy in town. Maybe it was his charming smile that could delight the most stern teachers, his midnight black hair, or even his ocean blue eyes. Whatever it was, girls had been swooning over Tom, ever since he was twelve. They clung onto him like kittens, never letting go. 

Tom used to live two lives, like a double edged sword. One was his life outside home, where he was perfect and shone no flaw. His life at home was a one eighty turn. The blue chipped door represented Tom's feelings towards his father. The cheerful blue represented happiness, while the chips represented pain. Buried deep into his memory was a time where Mosley Barton had been the most proud father in town, always spending time with his boy to make him happy.

Then, suddenly it happened. Tom remembered this day as clear as a crystal.

He was thirteen years old and had just got back from school. Back then, the sun always shone on his world, so when he walked into his house, Tom was not prepared. Broken furniture lay dead on the floor and the only reminiscent of his long dead mother, a glass vase, was shattered into a million pieces. His father ran into the room, and this was not the face he was used to seeing. Instead Tom saw bloodshot eyes and a angry expression painted onto Moseley's face.

"How dare you come into this house?! You are not welcome!" These words echoed into Tom's brain and suddenly tears dripped down his cheeks. He turned to run but his father was too fast. He yanked Tom feet up and thrashed his head into the broken glass. Then, he threw his son out of the window. "Never come back!" Blood gushed all over Tom's body as he stumbled to run away but fell.

Tom winced at the thought of these painful memories. What came after was worse. After three weeks of recovering at the hospital, Tom decided he could never go back to his father again. He seeked refuge in his grandfather's house, a kind gardener.

One day, he asked his grandfather, "What made my dad so upset with me? Why was he so mean?"

Francis Barton calmly replied, "You are too young to know these things and will learn someday."

Two weeks after living there, there was a booming knock at the door. Tom quickly rushed over and opened to see the face he never thought he would see in his whole life.

His father. It was hard to distinguish him, as in their five weeks of separation his hair had grown unruly like a lion and his eyes were so bloodshot and puffy you could only see slits. The smell of cheap liquor wafted into the air, and then Mosley spoke. "Tom, how dare you run away from home! You goddamn, nasty son of a bitch!" Before Francis could even speak, Tom had been dragged away by the collar to his greatest nightmare.

And there was his story. For five years, he had been abused. Some days were bloodier than others, and sometimes Tom had hope his father would kick out the stranger in his body and go back to the way he used to be. But it never happened.

As he walked in, Tom heard complete silence. Fear was a spider creeping through his body as he searched all the rooms. His father was gone. The next week, Tom stayed in his house waiting for Mosley to come back, but he never did. So, he did what anyone in the right mind would do and quickly gathered the few belongings he owned. Stepping out of the blue chipped door, Tom never looked back and turned ahead to his new future with living with his grandfather.

After walking for an hour, he saw the familiar yellow brick house he had been dragged out of not so long ago. Tom gently knocked at the door, and one second later, he saw the kind face he loved. "Tom, you came," Francis smiled.

"Can I live with you?"