Blood Drops as Tears

By Adrian Brewer

Tristan, a 17-year-old recent high school graduate, is at the heart of 'Blood Drops as Tears'. His life takes a dark turn as he develops symptoms of schizophrenia. This gripping novel immerses the reader in Tristan's world of delusions and heroic missions, as he struggles with the boundaries between reality and illusion.

His journey leads him to a psychiatric facility, where he battles to overcome his delusions and grasp reality. This story offers a compelling look at mental disorders and the resilience of the human mind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adrian Brewer
• Release date: Jan 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224291472

Book preview

1

How did it go? Tristan walks over to his friend Justin with curiosity. He casually holds his bike - he's not allowed to use it on the school grounds.

Justin looks at him with a smile.

Great, he says. I don't have to worry about this exam week. Everything went smoothly. And how about you?

Same here. It was a piece of cake this time.

Tristan takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Occasionally, he enjoys a smoke, although his parents shouldn't know about this habit yet. As if it's been a habit for years, he offers one to his friend as well. As soon as they're off the school grounds, they confidently light up and take deep drags.

On to the final semester, Justin remarks. I'll be so happy when I'm done with high school. I'm looking forward to moving on. Studying medicine... I haven't heard back from the university I applied to yet. I hope I get accepted.

Exciting, Tristan replies.

Definitely. You'll start working right away, right? Have you looked for a good workplace?

As a matter of fact, a few days ago, I filled out an application form on LinkedIn for an accounting firm. Now, I'm waiting for their response. Accountancy seems like an incredibly cool profession.

Yeah, you've been talking about it for a couple of years now. Justin laughs as he stubs out his cigarette. Good luck with that. Ah, I'm glad it's the weekend. Will I see you at the Bulk tomorrow? By this, he means the empty garage of one of their friends' parents. They've turned it into a sort of café where they hang out on Saturday nights. Tristan takes one last drag of his cigarette and casually tosses it away.

That's the plan, he replies, while he gazes at his burning butt for a moment before stomping it out.

See you tomorrow, he says to his friend. Have a pleasant evening.

You too, his friend responds.

While his friend rides away, Tristan quickly hides his pack of cigarettes deeper in his pocket - his parents really can't find out. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and bikes home.

Did it go well? is the first thing his mother asks when he enters the house through the back door.

Not at all, he replies, trying to make his face look as gloomy as possible. Completely ruined. I didn't know any of the answers.

There are a few things you'll never learn, she answers. One of them is fooling your mother.

Tristan's somber expression immediately turns into a bright smile. He embraces his mother, lifting her slightly, and asks, Why can't I ever lie to you?

Put me down, you're squeezing me, she exclaims. Once she's back on the ground, she answers, Because you're too honest for that. She continues, What do you feel like having? Coffee or tea?

Coffee, please. And a big cookie because I'm hungry.

Sure...

I'll take it upstairs right away. I need to study.

Oh, enjoy your coffee here for a bit. I've been alone all day. And you don't have to be studying all the time. You can't burn the candle at both ends."

Tristan gives in, and shortly after, they both sit at the kitchen table with steaming mugs, where Tristan shares his actual experiences with the exam week.

I think it went really well this week. I didn't mess up any of the exams. Since I also got good grades on my previous tests, I already have half of my diploma.

That's nice, his mother acknowledges.

Alright. That was a nice cup of coffee. I'll get to work. Tristan grabs his backpack and takes it to his room.

Continuing my studies, he thinks. Even though I already have half of my diploma, the other half won't come for free.

But before he opens a book, he thinks of something else.

Let me hook up my game console again. I've had a busy week, so a little relaxation is well-deserved. He has owned the device for quite some time, but he hasn't used it in two years.

A little while later, he's gaming behind his screen. At first, it takes some effort to handle the controller. The character's strange moves require quite a bit of dexterity. But it's a simple game, and in no time, he has it completely under control. The controls turn out to be a piece of cake.

He's surprised by how much he's enjoying it now, even though he used to consider it a pointless waste of time. It's a delightful distraction from his worries and provides him with a fun challenge.

Just like with his studies, he forgets everything around him and gets fully absorbed in the game. Until his mother interrupts him by calling from the bottom of the stairs, Tristan... dinner! That's when he realizes that two hours have passed.

What a waste of time, he thinks. But well, a little relaxation is allowed once in a while.

His grumbling stomach seems to be eager for a hearty meal.

When he comes downstairs, he cheerfully says, Good afternoon to his father.

Good afternoon, his father replies. Your mother told me the exam went well.

Yes, indeed. I'll probably get the results next week or the week after, but I'm not losing a second of sleep over it.

That's good. You'll likely get the same excellent grades as in the second semester, which is well-deserved because you're working really hard.

Let's just wait for the grades, Tristan responds calmly. If those expectations are set too high, I'll still be disappointed if they turn out to be just average. Playfully, he adds, And from you, a scolding.

You rarely get that from us. He manages to provoke his mom once again. Only when you truly deserve it.

Dad smiles at him.

Like if you're secretly found smoking, he says.

Tristan doesn't say anything in response. He just chuckles a bit. Did he hear a double meaning in his father's voice?

Alright, let's sit at the table, Mom interrupts, preventing further contemplations. Potatoes, endive, and a piece of meat. To avoid any critical remarks about this everyday plainness, she adds, And if you don't like it, then don't eat.

I was afraid of that, Tristan responds.

You're quite a little rascal with those sly remarks, he's told. His father changes the subject. Have you heard back from that accounting firm?

No idea, Tristan replies. I haven't checked my inbox yet.

That's not like you, his mother says. Usually, it's the first thing you do when you're in your room.

This time, it's different, Tristan chuckles. I wasted my time playing games this afternoon. Before I knew it, you were already calling me downstairs.

You're surprising us today. Not checking your mailbox and not studying either, his father remarks. But well, it's not your usual behavior, so we won't make a big deal out of it. You don't always have to bury yourself in books. However, he emphasizes, you better check your email later. I'm curious about the accounting firm's response.

That's typical Dad, Tristan responds annoyed. Unlike his mother, he often finds his father to be an irritating meddler. Always wanting to oversee everything that's somewhat official. Can't I handle these things on my own? Sometimes you act as if I'm a little kid.

Finish your food, his mother prevents unnecessary bickering. If we have something important, we also share it with each other. There's nothing wrong with that. Now, stop talking about it.

But I...

Mouth shut and eat! his mother commands.

The meal proceeds. Tristan quickly forgets his annoyance. A calm tune playing in the background adds to the cozy atmosphere.

I'm starting my night shift in an hour, his mother says afterward. You two take care of cleaning up.

Sure, both father and son say simultaneously. His father adds, Tomorrow, you'll be sleeping, Tristan will go to his Saturday job, and I'll make sure there's food on the table.

The men immediately start clearing the table, loading the dishwasher, and cleaning the kitchen counter. After twenty minutes, everything is sparkling clean. His mother reappears, kisses her husband, and heads off to work. Tristan goes upstairs and checks his email. Indeed, he has a response from the accounting firm.

Dear Tristan,

Thank you for sending in the application form. Could you please send us a cover letter by mail?

The name of the relevant employee and other details are also provided.

What's that for? Tristan wonders. They already have my information, don't they? And it has to be sent by mail, even though email is so much easier. Well, I'll quickly write something.

He opens a Word document, and in no time, he has his letter written.

Hi,

I'm Tristan, and I would like to work with you.

I'm currently in high school, and I'll be taking my final exams this year. I think I'll pass.

Regards,

Tristan

I'll ask Dad for an envelope and a stamp later.

A moment later, the document prints out.

Of course, Dad wants to see it, he realizes. I might as well take it downstairs right away.

Yes, I got a response, he announces. They want me to send a cover letter by mail. I've already written it.

That's proactive, his father compliments. Let me see your writing.

I thought you'd want to, Tristan laughs with an irritated undertone. His father reads the letter while standing, and his eyes widen in surprise.

Is this a joke, or do you really want to send it like this?

Yes, of course. What's wrong with it?

Well, if you don't want to get a job anywhere, then you write letters like this. They'll throw it straight in the trash.

Why? I already filled out a form. They know everything about me.

It's not just about the information; they also want to assess what kind of person they're dealing with. What I see here comes across as completely unmotivated. It shows absolutely no interest in any way. I don't understand it. Didn't you learn how to write a good cover letter in school?

Yes, Tristan realizes. But that was last year, and I've forgotten it since.

Now, his father appears annoyed.

Then look it up somewhere and educate yourself again. I can't do anything with this. Of course, I'm willing to help you with everything, but I'm not doing your work. Go upstairs, find the materials, and come back down in two hours with a proper cover letter.

I don't know if I can find that study material anymore.

Just do your best. Understood?

Yes, Dad. Tristan slinks away with the paper in his hand. Sheepishly, he sits down at his desk. His face turns red with embarrassment as he rereads his own letter.

Indeed, he realizes. This looks absolutely terrible.

He knew very well that a cover letter should be written differently. Why didn't he think of that at all?

What's wrong with me today? he wonders.

2

Sighing, Tristan retrieves a box containing his belongings from the previous school year. He considers himself fortunate to have kept it. Quite a few classmates throw them away once a school year is over.

He quickly finds the notes on writing a job application letter. He carefully reviews them once again. Well... there's nothing particularly special in there. He still remembers it all. Angry at himself for his stupidity, he starts a new Word document.

Properly, as it should be, he first types the name and address of the company to which the letter should be sent. Then his own name and address, including his email address and phone number; followed by the city and date.

Next comes the salutation. What should he do? Dear Sir or Dear Mr.? Both are acceptable. What's the name of that man who sent him the email anyway? He retrieves the email and sees that it was signed by Monique Robinson.

Darn, it's a woman. I've overlooked that too, he realizes. Luckily, Dad doesn't know this, and I'm not going to tell him either.

Then he begins: Dear Mrs. Robinson...

Of course, it takes him some effort to express things properly.

But that's not surprising, he remembers the teacher's words. It applies to everyone, and it just means that you're taking your application seriously. Indeed, about two hours after his father sent him upstairs, he comes back downstairs.

In contrast to his first attempt, he now feels some tension, as his father reads the letter attentively.

This is much better, his father remarks, to his relief. Do you have a resume to go with it?

Yes, I do. And I also printed out the email.

Let's take a careful look at it now, his dad says.

His father sits at the table, with Tristan next to him. He makes a few minor changes here and there, but overall, he seems very satisfied with it.

I have one more comment, he says finally. On your resume, you should also mention that you work as a clothing salesperson in a men's fashion store on Saturdays and during holidays. If they see that you're entrusted with that responsibility at the age of seventeen, it will really impress them. And I suggest listing your boss there as a reference. You can ask him about it tomorrow.

Do I have to? Tristan asks.

Well, it's not mandatory, but it will certainly help you in getting hired there. They may not contact him, but the fact that you recommend him usually says a lot, his dad explains.

Okay. I'll make the adjustments to the letter and tomorrow I'll ask my boss if that's okay, Tristan says, getting ready to go upstairs. I'll work for another hour.

I wouldn't do that, his dad tries to stop him. You're not feeling very alert today. It's probably because of the challenging week you've had. Just stay downstairs. I don't think you've watched the knowledge quiz that you always enjoy. Let's watch it together. By the way, do you feel like having a snack? I'll heat up the deep fryer.

Tristan is persuaded. His dad also brings out two beers.

I think we've earned these.

With an enjoyable TV program, some snacks, and a nice beer, father and son have a pleasant evening together.

*      *      *

Chris, can I talk to you for a moment? Tristan asks as he enters his boss's office.

Sure, his boss responds. Then with a slightly alarmed tone, he adds, You're not about to tell me that you're leaving, are you?

No, not at all. I just wanted to ask you something.

Well, spit it out then, his boss says.

Tristan briefly explains that he has been invited by an accounting firm to write a job application letter and that his father has advised him to list his boss as a reference.

Just to clarify: if that job goes through, it will only start after I have my high school diploma. But... would they be allowed to call you to ask about me? Tristan asks.

Of course! I can certainly share some positive things about you, Chris immediately agrees. Although, in that sense, I find it a bit unfortunate because I recently proposed to my superiors to hire you as a permanent employee after your exams. I assured them that within about five years, you could already be a branch manager somewhere. Mind you, you'll only be twenty-two then. And after another five years, you could have one of the highest-paid positions at the headquarters. I wouldn't be surprised if you eventually end up in a position on the central board of directors. They granted my request, so... that offer still stands as well.

Thank you, boss. I didn't expect this, Tristan responds, clearly surprised and delighted by this unexpected turn of events. I will definitely consider it, but I will at least apply to that accounting firm.

You're absolutely right. Go and explore that opportunity. Applying doesn't create any obligations, his boss advises.

Agreed. I'll get back to work.

Good luck.

Tristan walks cheerfully to his department, smiling at his boss's response. He had actually expected Chris to be willing to cooperate. He's always been so enthusiastic about him. But the future dream of the central board of directors... that's still far away for him. On the other hand, staying here as a permanent employee and working his way up in this company... that also appeals to him. He wants to think it over and discuss it with his dad.

He's quite meddlesome, but he does have good insights, Tristan admits to himself.

The first customers, a couple, are already there when Tristan arrives at his department. Glancing at his watch, he notes that it's one minute past ten.

Good morning, he greets them with a friendly smile. Can I assist you, or would you like to browse around first?

No, thank you, the woman says. We'd like your assistance.

What did you have in mind? he asks.

We're looking for a nice suit for my husband, the woman responds. Our daughter is getting married soon, and we want to make a good impression.

I completely understand, Tristan says.

What would you recommend? the woman asks.

Well, you both have a rather youthful appearance. Something slightly trendy would suit you, but of course, it shouldn't be too flashy, Tristan suggests.

I was thinking of jeans with holes in them, the man adds his input.

That sounds like a great idea, Tristan plays along. However, I'll have to refer you to the shop down the road that sells jeans. We don't have them in our collection. Then he continues seriously, You could indeed go for a slightly informal outfit with a touch of elegance. Something that's casual but still respectable.

Show us some options, the woman requests.

After trying on a few outfits, they end up at the cash register with a nice reddish-brown blazer, light trousers, a dress shirt, and