SHADOWS OF THE PAST

Tristan's eyes stared back at him from the mirror, but they were not his own. They were darker, more sinister, with vertical pupils that seemed to pierce through the glass. His skin was deathly pale, stretched taut over razor-sharp cheekbones. His hair was longer, wilder, with subtle streaks of silver strands that seemed to move of their own accord.

He was a monster.

Tristan's mind recoiled in horror, his thoughts consumed by the transformation that had ravaged his body on his 18th birthday. He could not shake the feeling of being a stranger in his own skin, a prisoner of the beast that lurked beneath the surface.

"Tristan, sweetie, come down for breakfast," his mother, Laura, called from downstairs, her voice cheerful but laced with concern and hesitation.

Tristan hesitated, unsure if he was ready to face her. What if she saw the monster he had become? What if she was repulsed by him?

But his stomach growled, reminding him that he needed to eat. He took a deep breath and made his way downstairs, his movements awkward and uncoordinated.

Laura's eyes widened as he entered the kitchen, her gaze fixed on his face. "Tristan, oh my god..."

Tristan's heart sank, expecting her to scream or run away. But instead, she rushed towards him, her arms open wide. "My baby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea it would be like this."

Tristan's eyes stung with tears as he embraced her, feeling a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't alone in this monstrous form.

"Mom, what's going on?" Tristan asked, his voice shaking. "Why did I turn into”, he paused, unsure of how to describe his new self, then continued, “into this?"

Laura hesitated, her eyes darting around the room. "I,” she hesitated, “I do not know, sweetie. I'm sorry."

Tristan's frustration grew. "Do not know? You are my mother! You are supposed to have answers!"

Laura sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Tristan, I, I do not know everything about your past.” She quickly thought up some lies. “Your father and I, we, we did not exactly have a conventional relationship."

Tristan's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Laura's gaze dropped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, we did not meet under normal circumstances. And I do not know much about your family."

Tristan's mind reeled. "What are you hiding from me?"

Laura's eyes flashed with fear. "Nothing, Tristan! I swear!"

But Tristan knew she was lying. He could see it in her roving eyes.

"Tell me the truth," he demanded, his voice rising.

Laura's face crumpled, and she turned away, her shoulders shaking.

Tristan's heart sank. What was she hiding? And why?

"Mom, please," Tristan said, his voice cracking. "I need to know the truth. What's going on with me? Why did I turn into this, this thing?"

Laura's shoulders shook harder, and she covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry, Tristan. I'm so sorry."

Tristan's frustration boiled over. "Sorry? Sorry is not enough! I need answers!"

Laura took a deep breath and turned to face him, her eyes red-rimmed. "Tristan, I,” she hesitated before continuing,  “I didn't give birth to you. I found you, as a baby. And I raised you as my own."

Tristan's world spun around him. "What do you mean? You are not my real mother?"

Laura's face contorted in anguish. "I am so sorry, Tristan. I did not mean to lie to you. But I had to protect you." She said, still avoiding the truth and weaving more lies.

Tristan's mind reeled. "Protect me from what?"

Laura's eyes dropped again, and she whispered, "From those who would hurt you. From those who created you."

Tristan's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? Created me?"

But Laura just shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. "I will not say any more, Tristan. Please, just forgive me." Perhaps her stubbornness would help, she thought.

Tristan's heart was racing. What did Laura mean? Who were these people who created him? And what did they want with him?

Tristan's anger boiled over, and he slammed his fist on the table. "Tell me the truth, Laura! Who am I? Where did I come from?"

Laura cowered, her eyes wide with fear. "Tristan, please, just calm down."

But Tristan was beyond reason. He grabbed Laura's shoulders, shaking her. "Tell me!"

Laura's face was white, her eyes bulging. Knowing she could not dally anymore, she shouted, "Okay, okay! I will tell you the real truth now! Just stop!"

Laura's dark skin now seemed to sag, weighed down by the crushing burden of her secret. Her grey hair appears dull and lifeless, like a veil of shame cast over her face. Her brown eyes, once warm and loving, now filled with tears, brimming with a deep remorse that threatened to spill over. Her voice trembled, a barely audible whisper, as if the words themselves were toxic, poisoning her very soul. "Tristan, I, I stole you," she stammers, the words hanging in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down, daring him to confront the truth.

Her hands, once so sure and nurturing, now shook like leaves, as if the very foundations of her world were crumbling beneath her. She covered her face, as if to hide from the shame, the guilt, the crushing weight of her own deceit. The air seemed to vibrate with tension, heavy with the unspoken words, the secrets kept hidden for so long. Tristan's presence loomed before her, a silent accusation, a reminder of the lie she had lived for so long.

Laura's breath came in short gasps, as if she was drowning in her own regret. Her shoulders slumped, defeated, as if the weight of her confession was crushing her. Her eyes, once bright with love, now dimmed with shame, cast downward, unable to meet Tristan's gaze, as if unworthy of his forgiveness.

At that moment, Laura was a woman undone, her carefully constructed facade shattered, her secrets spilling out like blood from a wound. She stood before Tristan, a supplicant, begging for forgiveness, for understanding, for a chance to redeem herself, to make amends for the ultimate betrayal.

Tristan's grip tightened. "Tell me!"

Laura's voice was barely audible. "I stole you, Tristan. I stole you from your birth mother."

Tristan's world went dark. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

Suddenly, he was furious. He threw Laura across the room, slamming her into the wall. "You lied to me! You stole me from my real mother!"

Laura crumpled to the floor, sobbing. "I was trying to protect you, Tristan! I did not want you to know the truth!"

Tristan's anger consumed him. He advanced on Laura, his fists clenched. "Why? Why did you steal me?"

Laura's voice was barely audible. "Because”, she stammered, “because I loved you. I wanted you for myself."

Tristan's mind reeled. He could not process what he was hearing.