Choosing sides is easier said than done. For most.Mature

Tristan watched in horror as his mother attacked Jet, knocking to the floor and raging at him. Jet did nothing to fight back as she yelled at him, instead waiting until she was done. He started to laugh as she trailed off.

‘Pathetic little waste of space.’ He spat at her and threw her off. Tristan shouted out as his mother hit the ground again. ‘For fuck’s sake, Tristan! SHUT UP!’ Jet screamed cutting the teenager off. Jet stormed over to where Alice was trying to recover. He picked her up, grabbing her by the throat and walked over to the window that the chair had made an exit through. Setting her down on the floor at the edge of the thirty storey drop, he turned to Tristan. ‘Now you can talk, hybrid. Tell me why I shouldn’t throw your dear mummy out of this window. Go on!’ Jet urged, nudging her a little, making her teeter dangerously. Tristan was lost for words. He tried to move, but only his upper body moved, his legs still bound. Jet smiled and released him, letting him crash to the floor with a bark of laughter. Tristan scrabbled to his feet, desperate to reach his mother and save her.

Jet’s smile widened in a menacing line of cruelty. As Tristan sprinted the distance between his father to his mother, he froze up mid step. Alice sobbed loudly, yelling abuse at Jet.

‘Release him you coward!’ she screamed. ‘Let him go!’ Jet ignored her, focussing on the teenager his face becoming a mask of concentration.

‘I’m fine, mother.’ Tristan said quietly, more to the floor than to Alice. There was a brief moment of silence, confusion clouding Alice’s eyes temporarily.

‘What have you done to him?’ she asked warily. Jet ignored her again. A slight smile broke through the intensity of his expression. Alice’s eyes widened in fear for her son. She forgot that she was teetering on the edge of a very long drop, concerned only as her son lifted his head rigidly, looking straight at Jet.

‘I have a question for you, Tristan. If you give me the right answer, I will spare your mother. Wrong answer? She falls thirty storeys. Not even she can survive that.’ Tristan was silent, waiting with military discipline for the question. Jet turned his back and paced over to Alice, placing a hand heavily on her shoulder. She wobbled dangerously, but his grasp was enough to keep her in place. ‘Who you gonna fight for, Tristan?’ Jet asked, turning to face Tristan, his smile ever wider. Tristan wasn’t even thinking. The answer had been decided before the question had been asked.  

The End

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