Sun Kissed kids

Freedom

“Are those two nuts?” he muttered and clung to Tristan’s sleeves thanking whatever God there may be that his friend didn’t say anything nor objected.

Rusty worriedly wondered if his friend has gone stark mad and was thinking of murdering those two volunteers. Tristan never liked those people. Those rich spoiled rotten brats, he calls them. Rusty shivered and held on tightly on Tristan’s sleeve. “I will not let you kill them,” he repeated those words in his head promising to do his best to not let his only friend do something that he will regret forever. Then, in his worried state, he smelled something. It was an awful stench. The smell reminded him of the mines. “Tristan,” he whispered as he tried to block off from his mind all the unpleasant memories he had of the mine. He strained his eyes looking for some ray of light as he started to choke.

***

Rusty was back in the mines again. The burly miners were around him as they took their turns in inflicting physical harm to his small form. They had turned off their lights when they realized that he was afraid of the dark. He cried out to make them stop but somebody kicked him in the stomach making him puke out his dinner. He was also starting to taste blood in his mouth. He pleaded for them to stop but they only laughed contemptuously at him. He tried covering his ears but the sound penetrated still. He prayed to die but nobody was hearing his prayers. He remained awake through his painful ordeal. Until they left. Until he was covered with total silence and absolute darkness that he thought he might have died without knowing it. Until finally he succumbed to sleep.

It was the next morning when they finally found him still alive. He was barely hanging on but his will to live was strong. When the men finished their little amusement and thought him to be dead, they finally left. Rusty, with broken arms and fractured ribs, barely able to breathe and move, crawled out of the mine inch by agonizing inch when he awoke that next morning. His only guide was the sound of the water dripping from the main entrance. It seemed that that night, it rained. When he reached the end of the tunnel exhausted he again fell into a deep sleep.

When morning came, Tristan was just passing by the mine on his way to his hiding place saw Rusty’s forlorn figure covered in blood and bruises. Upon inspection, Tristan thought of leaving him. With the kind of bruises and wounds on that small body, there was no way that Rusty could have survived. But he did. When Tristan was about to leave the small body moved. Tristan called in a few of his friends and they took him to the foundation. And so Rusty lived and he never came back to the mine.

***

“Rusty,” whispered Tristan. He was shaking him hard he could almost hear his teeth rattle. “Rusty,” this time he said it louder. He sighed in relief when Rusty finally stirred. He shouldn’t have brought him. He should have left him in the car. At least in the car, there was light. Rusty was afraid of darkness. Coupled with the stench coming from the shore, it was no wonder that it brought horrible and painful memories enough for his friend to shut down.

“Tristan?” Rusty hoarsely whispered as he came back to the present. He was cold and shaking badly. He wrapped his thin arms around his friend tightly hiding from the darkness. “Let’s go back, please. Its so dark.” Rusty’s tough exterior had crumbled leaving an utterly terrified twelve year old that Tristan almost gave in and go back to their car. But they were almost there. He could hear the waves crushing on the shore just beyond and the awful stench was almost unbearable now. And his sister was there. She must have known something was wrong and now she was coming back.

“I’m sorry but we have to continue,” Tristan said and he took out his lighter and gave it to Rusty. “Here,” he said and waited for Rusty to light it and continued walking slower to accommodate his friend.