Chrysalis

Chapter 6: In the Shadow of Secrets

TW: DEPICTION OF VIOLENCE AND CHILD ABUSE

The atmosphere in the office felt oppressively heavy. Evan recalled the meticulous arrangement of everything within its walls. The purple wallpaper, adorned with gilded accents, added to its austere ambiance. The large Gothic-style oak and cherry wood furniture, despite their warm tones, contributed to the stifling feeling. Adorning the walls were exquisite paintings that the young boy found solace in during moments of anxiety, as if they were portals to another world waiting to be explored. Positioned to the right of his father's imposing desk was an ancient clock, a family heirloom passed down through generations. The constant 'tick-tock' of the clock only served to heighten the child's unease...

"How many times do I have to tell you?! Hold your wand properly!!"

Two massive hands crashed onto the sturdy oak desk, sending tremors through the room. The terrified boy, unable to meet his father's gaze, sobbed uncontrollably.

"Begin anew," the man commanded with a firm and solemn tone.

"Father... we've been practising this spell for three hours, and I'm exhausted. Please... may I have a short break? Just a brief one, please..." The boy's voice quivered with fear as he sniffled, trying his best not to cry any further and avoid upsetting his father.

Before he could grasp the situation, that intimidating hand, the one he had always feared, slammed down onto his cheek with a resounding thud, accompanied by more shouts.

"A break?! Who do you think you are, my boy?! Act like a man, not like a whimpering child!! Not even the dumbest of your elder brothers has ever behaved so cowardly!! Get up. Get up, Evan!! Right now!" Mr. Bauw roared.

Lodewijk, Evan's father, seized his son's arm and forcefully yanked him out of the chair where the boy had been sitting. He then positioned him in front of the desk and commanded him once more to begin anew.

The helpless child quivered like a fragile leaf in the wind. His father's icy, merciless gaze sent shivers down his spine, instilling an overwhelming sense of dread. His tiny hand trembled uncontrollably, struggling to clasp his father's wand with his frail fingers. At a mere 6 years old, Evan was engulfed in a suffocating wave of powerlessness and fear. He yearned to fade into oblivion, escaping the harsh reality before him. If only his mother were there... Would she have rushed to his side, a guardian angel shielding him from the storm? Would she have cradled him in her arms, offering solace and warmth? And what lingering fragrance would her perfume have left behind...?

"Xander mastered this basic spell at the age of 7. Show me what you're capable of, Evan. You know you're my favourite son. Prove that you can surpass your brothers," Lodewijk's voice reverberated like a menacing thunder.

The poor little boy choked back a sob. He shut his eyes tightly, another tear tracing a path down his cheek like a radiant jewel on polished marble. There was no escaping it, not this time. Fear swirled within him, consuming him whole. Why couldn't his father be like other fathers...? What had he done to deserve such a cruel fate from the universe? Was there no one in this harsh world to offer him a helping hand, one that wouldn't inflict pain?