Author: Briar Elwood PM
I stared at my reflection in the mirror dumbly. I should've avoided looking in the mirror. But here I was, locked with my own eyes, flashes of suppressed memories running through my mind. Tag to Friends and Enemies. SPOILERSRated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Michael W. - Words: 802 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 3 - Published: 06-05-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6026104
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I stared at my reflection in the mirror dumbly. Dammit. I should've avoided looking in the mirror. A simple trip to the bathroom wasn't supposed to turn into an attack from myself. But here I was, locked with my own eyes, flashes of suppressed memories running through my mind.
Dad shoved me back against the wall hard, hands clutching the collar of my shirt with fierce strength. At this point I knew better than to fight back. I didn't see the point, anyway. At the end of that year, I'd be leaving. Leaving this forsaken house and the broken people inside of it.
"You really think you're going to amount to something?" he asked me roughly, surprisingly stale breath hitting me in the face. He wasn't drunk for once. No, this time he was completely sober.
"Let me tell you something, kid. You're not. You're going to turn out just like me. And there's nothing you can do about it." He seemed to emphasize every word that came out of his mouth, like he was talking to a little kid that wouldn't be able to understand him. But I understood him. I understood him all too well.
"I'll never end up like you," I dared to hiss. I flinched in preparation for the blow that was sure to come. But it never did. Instead, Dad pulled back, letting go of me... chuckling.
"Yeah," he drawled sarcastically. "Sure."
Even at the time I'd known he was right. I knew that if I didn't manage to get out of there, I would be just like him: a drunkard, abusive... a monster.
"There's always been a part of you, Michael... Maybe it's from your father, I don't know. You could've turned out different."
Ma had been right. I could never deny that. But... I hadn't really avoided the monster inside of me.
"You want this one, kid?"
I looked up to see Larry dragging some poor soul towards me. The guy looked like a teenager and had an expression of pure terror in his eyes. He had a right to be terrified. Larry and I were here to clean up the mess these kids had made.
I shrugged silently and Larry grinned, shoving the kid to me. I caught him, turned him so he back was to me and easily snapped his neck.
Larry chuckled as I let the kid's body fall to the ground.
I hadn't always had the moral code I did now. I did what I had to. Or what I thought I had to.
"I know how you used to look at people when they betrayed us. When they're stupidity disappointed us."
I tore my gaze away from my reflection to stare at my own hands. These hands had done horrible, terrible things. Things I'd never told anyone about. Not Sam, not Fi and especially not Ma. I stared at them as if they weren't connected to me, wishing I could take it all back.
"There's a part of me... There's a part that's like him."
There had always been a part of me that was like Larry. It'd come from my dad. There was a little vicious monster that sat inside my head, patiently waiting for its turn to claw its way out into the open.
I looked back up to my reflection, not fully aware of the tears streaming down my face.
"It's just a matter of time 'til you're just like me. Just like me. Just like me."
I'd thought I'd been doing a good job keeping the monster at bay. Every day seemed to get better. But then... then Simon...
"He laughed," I chocked, feeling the terror well up inside of me again. I felt so old, so weary. "When I caught Simon, he laughed. He said it was just a matter of time before I was just like him." I was looking up to Ma now, silently pleading with her. I felt so old, but so young at the same time. I needed my mom right now.
She held my hand gently. "He's wrong, honey," she assured me, standing up to wrap her arms around me. "That's not the son I raised."
She didn't know, though. She didn't know what kind of things I'd done. She didn't... she couldn't understand.
"Mike, you just burned a spy."
And now it was happening again. Simon had been right. Dad had been right.
I wrenched my eyes away from the reflection. I couldn't bare to look at it any longer.
A/N: I love reviewers and live for constructive criticism!