There was once a little boy who loved his mother dearly. She was the sunshine of his life, and she gave him so much happiness through the little complints he rarely received.
He did his best in everything that he did to please his mother, thinking that it would make her happy. That was sothing his father wanted him to do as well, so it seed like he was hitting two birds with one stone.
At a very young age, he worked so hard to turn into a perfect boy that everybody, including adults, look up to.
He was often complinted by his classmates and their parents and so of his family's family friends, too. But he didn't want any of their complints. The only person he wanted to hear them from was from his mother whom he wanted to smile.
But in contrary to how the little boy felt about his mother, she hated the poor boy so much to the point where she couldn't even bare to see him.
"Mom, look! I got a perfect score on our quiz today," the boy happily said as he showed a paper to his mother.
His mother had a blank expression on her face. "Good," she replied and averted her eyes from the paper for she didn't want to see the boy's face longer than necessary.
The little boy's face brightened upon hearing his mother complint him again after nearly two years. His heart felt so happy from the complint he heard that he started grinning like an idiot.
His green downturned eyes turned into a perfect crescent as he grinned from ear to ear. "Am I a good boy, mom?" the boy asked, wanting to hear more complints from his mother.
"Do not bother right now, Tristan. I'm tired," she said in an annoyed tone.
Instead of feeling sad from how his mother spoke to him, Tristan still smiled. "Okay, mom. Please rest well," he said and fumbled with his fingers.
It looked like he wanted to do sothing, but he was hesitating.
He mustered all of his courage and took tiny steps closer to his mother. He moved his face closer to hers slowly, and placed a peck on her cheek.
His mother's eyes widened from what he did and pushed him. The way she pushed him was too hard for a 10-year-old kid, that Tristan seed to fly to the corner of the room, hitting his back and the back of his head against the wall.
"What are you doing! I told you not to bother , didn't I?" The mother angrily yelled at the little boy.
The little boy swallowed hard as he tried to stomach the pain without making any sound so as to not upset his mother even more. He slowly knelt on the floor even though his back and head hurt. He felt a bit dizzy, so he put his hands on the floor to support his body. After finally kneeling down, he lowered his head before speaking. "I apologize for my rudeness. I'll be more mindful of my actions from now on," he said as he stared at the floor, still lowering his head.
"Leave. Leave!" His mother yelled at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoed slightly on the living room because of how loud she yelled. "Will do, mom," Tristan said and pursed his lips, feeling his heart ache because his mother was upset again.
He crawled to the paper he was holding on to earlier and took it as soon as he got near it. He then stood up and bowed his head to his mother before leaving.
He walked to the stairs to head to his room. On his way there, he ca across their maid who was called Mima. She was the one who takes care of the boy.
A bright smile curved in Tristan's lips with his eyes turning into a shape of crescent as he t the eyes of the maid.
"Hello, Mima! I did great on our quiz again today. Mom told I was good," he bead, bragging happily to Mima. "Oh my! That's great. What else did she say?" Mima excitedly said as she looked at the boy happily, empathizing with the happiness the boy felt at the mont.
"Oh... She just said, 'good'. That's all," Tristan shyly said, his face turning red in the process.
Mima was flustered after hearing what the boy said. It seed like she made a mistake, asking what else his mother said to him. She clearly knew his mother treated him coldly and rather harshly, but she sohow thought that maybe finally, his mother started warming up to him.
"L... Let's head to your room now, hmm? Let's get you changed into more comfortable clothes," Mima smiled at him. The boy nodded as a response and smiled at her again.
Tristan started walking again, while Mima stayed standing on the spot where she was standing on earlier to follow behind the boy. But when she saw how the boy's back looked, all the color in her face drained as her eyes shook while staring at the boy. It was as if she saw sothing horrible, and it made her nailed on her feet.
The boy stopped on his tracks and turned his head to look at the maid. "Mima? Why are you still there?" Tristan asked as he tilted his head a bit.
"O...Oh my..." Her face beca distorted as she covered her mouth with her hands, and her eyes showed worry for the boy. She ran to Tristan and bent her knees to level her head with him. "Why didn't you tell that you were hurting, Tristan? Your head is bleeding," she said, her eyes shaking while looking in the boy's eyes.
She was terrified. She was terrified because without even asking how it happened, she imdiately knew who caused Tristan's head to beco like that.
The boy touched the back of his head and then looked at his hand to see if he really was bleeding. What Mima told him was true. His hand looked like it was painted with red when he looked at it..
"Oh..." he said as he stared at his hand longer. He raised his head and said, "It's okay," while smiling.
Mima's heart ached for the boy.
She knew how mistreated he was, but she couldn't do anything about it because it was outside her ans and power.
"Co, let's go to your room," she said as she grabbed the boy's hand. "Are you feeling dizzy?" she asked as they walked. "A little," the boy responded.
She opened the door to his room and asked him to sit on his bed. "Wait here for a while, hmm? I'll go call the doctor," Mima said as she held the boy's hands tightly. "Okay," the boy smiled, as if trying to reassure her that he's fine.
Mima left the boy alone in the room to ask for the family doctor to co to his room. Tristan just sat quietly on his bed until Mima ca back with the doctor.
As he was getting treated, he noticed that Mima was frowning. She didn't look too good. She looked upset.
"Mima, what's wrong?" the boy innocently asked. Mima frowned even more as she felt her heart ache while looking at the boy who was unaware why she feels upset.
She knelt beside the boy and held his hands. "Tristan, if sothing hurts or if you have worries... or anything of the sort, please tell soone about it. You always keep things to yourself. It's not nice," Mima said as she looked at the boy with sad eyes.
"I'm okay, though. I can still handle this pain. It doesn't hurt that much," he smiled at her.
A tear fell from Mima's eye as she watched the smile form in the boy's lips.
It pained her looking at him smiling like that when he's actually in pain.
'A little boy like him shouldn't keep the pain all to himself. It would have been better if he cried or threw a tantrum, but I've never heard him complain nor tell people that he's hurting in all the years that I've worked here,' Mima thought to herself as she felt her heart ache even more.
"Even so... If you're in any type of pain, do not hesitate to tell people about it, hmm?" she said as she wiped the tear from her eye.
"If I do that, Mima won't cry anymore?" Tristan said as he raised his brows. Mima paused for a while and smiled at him. "Uh-huh..." she said as she nodded. "Tristan will be a good boy if he does that," she continued.
The boy's eyes sparkled when he heard what Mima said and smiled brightly after. "I will do that, then! Will mom be happy if I do that?" He said as he tilted his head a bit while still looking at Mima.
"Well..." Mima was hesitant. She didn't know what to tell the child because she knew exactly what kind of person his mother is. She didn't want to tell him the truth because she knew it would disappoint and hurt him.
"I don't really know about what your mom would think, but I think it's better for a child such as yourself to be more open about what you're feeling, sweetie," she said as she smiled with a gentle expression on her face.
"Okay, Mima. I will do that!"
But little do they know, what Mima said that day would leave a scar on Tristan's heart and mind.
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