Forbidden Revelations
Tristan's Story
by
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“C-can I talk to you guys for a minute?” Tristan’s smooth hands shook like an old man’s and he heaved breaths as if he had just sprinted down the block. “Of course!” His mother looked up and smiled. Her green eyes matched her patterned sweater, which graced her shoulders. His father grunted once and folded the newspaper he was reading. He tossed the paper onto the coffee table before him. His mother did likewise with the book she gingerly closed. They both shifted on the velvet covered couch to face their only son, waiting for him to speak. Tristan swallowed audibly as he stumbled his way to the room’s sole armchair. His mother’s face creased with worry as his father’s darkened in an accused apprehension; undeniably sure his son had committed some ignorant teenaged act. “What did you do, Tristan? How much is this going to cost us?” The deep voice of his father held a thread of concern, not only for his son, but for the possible damage to his wallet. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I just…” Tristan swallowed and tugged at the collar of his button up shirt. “I have to tell you guys something…” The cream-colored walls seemed to tighten around him. The frilly, olive green drapes rudely mocked his jumbled state. The chandelier shook alarmingly close, the artificial light radiating a sun-like heat, which Tristan never believed possible. He fumbled for a moment to unbutton the top button of his shirt. “Tristan, dear?” The sound of his mother’s placid voice startled Tristan from his panicked stupor; the walls returned to their rightful positions, the drapes smiled happily, and the light fixture cooled. His parents waited quietly. Tristan finally gathered his nerves enough to glance over to them and meet their anxious gazes. He opened his mouth to speak, but only air escaped. His words caught in his throat and the tapioca walls began to close in again. The panic pumped through his veins, his pulse jumped from his throat, stifling any words trying to escape. He began to reconsider everything he had planned on telling them. They weren’t ready. He wasn’t ready.
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About the Book
He knows it, his friends know it, his parents... don't know it. At school, Tristan has his group of friends, the people who support him. He knows he can depend on them. Outside of his clique, however, he is ridiculed. He has grown to ignore such immaturity, but the pain from years of mockery remains. After quietly carrying the burden of scorn, Tristan decides he needs to depend on his parents - fearing losing his sanity. He knows, however, that telling them about the object of other's disdain will not be easy, for Tristan has constantly driven himself to be the perfect son, a son his parents could be proud of. He succeeded: excellent grades, good manners, the ideal legacy for a couple to leave behind. But Tristan fears all of that may change when he tells them who he truly is...
About the Author
1. I have been writing stories in some form or another since I was in grade school. Since then, my writing has progressed through leaps and bounds. In high school, I took several courses designed to strengthen my writing. 2. My passion has always been writing. Even as my idea of the perfect career evolved, I always knew I would be an author on the side, at least until my writing could fully support me. Being able to actually publish one of my stories, especially at a young age, is astounding and has a dream-come-true quality. 3. I live in a small town in Wisconsin. I'm a senior in high school; graduation is in May. I plan on attending the University of Minnesota - Twin Cities next year to double major in Psychology and Sociology. I plan on minoring in Creative Writing. I surround myself with my friends and family. They all support me and my passion for writing.