Page 3 of Bastian

“How about we get some pizza on our way home?” Father suggests while the three of us watch our SUV pull at the entrance where we’re waiting.

Looking up at him, I ask. “Pineapple pizza?” That shit’s good, and that’s the only kind I like, to my parent’s dismay.

Father looks nauseous, and mom just laughs, even though she, too, finds the combination disgusting. “Sure thing, son.”

Sure thing.

That’s my father.

The greatest man I know.

“Shit, it’s cold.” My father curses aloud, then a smack follows as mom hits him on the back of the head as she always does whenever he does it. “Aghh.”

“Watch your mouth!” Mom frowns, but it does nothing. Instead, Father pulls her closer and kisses her.

I avert my eyes, not wanting to witness my parents sucking faces, but deep down, it makes me glad that my parents still love each other very much and that their marriage is not a fraud like half of his colleagues’ marriages. I tuck the queen piece back into my front pocket while my parents stand there in their little bubble, smiling, and so in love.

Laughing until it happens.

The worst thing a son could ever witness.

“Ronan!” My mother screams, and then all hell breaks loose, changing my world forever.

It all happens so fast that I am barely able to register it.

One second, we’re all laughing, and the next, father stands in front of us, eyes panicked, looking around for someone to help, while my mother urges me back, no longer touching me with a gentle touch.

No.

Her touch is not gentle at all but desperate.

“Cours, mon soleil. Cours!” She shouts desperately in my face while I try my best to hold on to her waist and, at the same time, see what is happening in front of me.

“What is going on!?” I yell, already panicking. “Father!”

The crowd parts, everyone crying in hysterics, seeking shelter from the madness.

Why is no one helping us?

Where is my father’s team?

“Hide, son.” I have never seen my father this way before. His face looks defeated, with tears in his eyes like mom. Tears form in my eyes in understanding that something is wrong. Really, really wrong.

Father smiles through the tears. “You be a good man, Sebastian. An honest man and someone people will follow. You lead by a sample, do you understand? Tell me you understand, son!” No, I don’t.

I don’t want to be a good man if this is what happens to them.

I don’t understand. I want to scream at him, but the words are stuck in my throat.

“I love you, son.” He then, for the first time in my life, turns around and gives me his back, dismissing me. I don’t have time to contemplate the meaning of his words when my mother gets in my face, peppering my face with heartbreaking kisses and tears. “I love you to the moon and back, Sebastian.” I don’t get to tell her I love her to the sun and back, if that were possible. I would do it, consequences be damned.

Because in one second, I have my mother’s gentle arms gripping my face, and the next, I am being pushed back into the crowd and away from them. Away from my world.

“Mom! Father! No!” I fight against the sea of people screaming and fleeing like cowards, trying to find my way back to them, but it’s too late.

Shots ring out.

Screams hurt my ears.

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