Lindir’s smile faded quickly when his gaze turned to his house. With the presence of Donni gone, the fear and unease crept back into his heart. His pulse quickened as he approached his window. It was easy enough to climb and finally he slid through the window and into his room. He quickly showered, unknowingly alerting his parents that he was home. Once dressed in clean clothes, he gathered his books and backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
The obvious thing to do was leave through the front door, hoping to fool his parents into believing he was there the whole time. But as soon as he made it down the stairs his mother spoke.
“Where have you been?” She said in a dangerous tone. He froze. “What do you mean?” He asked, pulse freaking out but he remained calm on the outside. He gestured to his room as he spoke.
She shook her head. “I was tired of seeing you wear the same outdated clothes. So I bought new things for you. But when I went to your room..you weren’t there.” She Pointe her fake nailed finger at him accusingly. He was caught. “Where!” She yelled, no doubt bringing his father’s attention to them. “..were you!?” She finished. Still just as loud. Her shout was so loud it made Lindir flinch.
“I…I..was..here. I just wasn’t in my room.” He lied, looking to the floor. Just then he heard footsteps from behind. His father. And by his gate and speed, he was not happy.
“Lindir! Why are you upsetting your mother?” He said angrily. “What have you done now, you ungrateful little brat.” Lindir tried to defend himself, to say he had been reading in another room and she misunderstood. This was wrong to do.
“Are you saying I am lying?” She said, immediately offended. Lindir shook his head and stepped back. Knowing exactly where this was headed. “No, mother. You’re not a liar. You just didn’t see me.” He said, nearly begging.
He jolted when his father’s hand clutched his shoulder. “I don’t believe your mother would make it up. And you never leave that filthy room of yours.” He accused. “Don’t call your mother a liar.” His father spun him around and backhanded him across the cheek. Lindir gasped, clutching his face. His eyes stung with the threat of tears, but he was trying so hard to stay strong.
Lindir felt frantic, fear spreading through him. “I promise.” He swore, though for once it was a lie. “I was studying. My professor said it’s good to study in different places sometimes. I have an exam today. I was just-..” his father’s shaking head cut him off and his eyes filled with tears.
“You’re so weak, Lindir. Always crying like a damn child.” It was his mother that said it but his father pushed his to the ground. The contents of his backpack spilled onto the floor and he quickly moved to clean up the mess as to not anger them further. But he cried out when a foot came down on his wrist, specifically the one that had been hurt climbing when he first met Donni. His heart skipped a beat. Donni. He wished he was away, with Donni. Away from this house and his parents. A sob tore through him and he almost called out for him. That would’ve been a deadly mistake.
His father yanked him up by his hair, causing Lindir do squirm and apologize continuously. “I think you’ll have to make up your exam.” His father said. “Because you’re grounded. You aren’t going anywhere, you little brat.” He growled through clenched teeth. Lindir thought of Donni again and he felt a surge of anger. They couldn’t keep him here. He was an adult. He needed to get out. To be free.
“Let go of me!” He yelled, taking them by surprise. He felt a brief moment of slack against his hair and he pulled free, but his father acted quickly, as he always did, and moved to slam the sliding door to the kitchen shut. It caught Lindir’s ankle and he cried out in pain. He, at least, thought he heard a crunch, but he limped away as fast as he could. He tried to run for the stairs, knowing he couldn’t make it to the door quick enough.
He only made it a few steps up on account of his swelling ankle, when he felt someone yank his long hair. He fell backwards and hit his head on the hard floor with a clear, audible crack and the light went out.
His mother winced but didn’t move to her son. “Ugh, darling, now he’s bleeding ing the tiles.” She sounded more pained about her floor than seeing her son’s blood seep from his head, staining his pale blonde hair.
The man shrugged and pulled out his cell. “It was an accident.” He said, as if it were obvious. He called an ambulance and gave a rather convincing story that his poor darling son fell down the stairs.
