Lately I have been rather inactive, that I know. A lot of things have been going on and I haven't really felt up to doing much. But I plan to write some more during the summer, I can never promise all that much during the school year, it always gets busy then, but I shall try.

I haven't really picked up (or rather typed) anything to do with the stories that I am currently doing, so, I wanted to do this to get back into it. I think it can out rather well, I haven't done anything close to this before, so, thanks for reading.

©Rick Riordan

©Scarlett Dove


Chapter I

Breaking Mirrors

With shaking hands, Nico put down the razor. He stares up at himself in the dirty mirror. His own blood is smudged there, as well as black from his eyes, and tears streaming down his cheeks. He was a mess, and he knew it unlike many others. Not even his father knows, but he's too out of it to care.

He lifts a hand to push his dirty unruly hair out of his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't even recognize himself at this point. His hair was hanging down in front of his face covered in grime due to the fact he hasn't showered in many days. He just didn't care anymore to try. He spent most of his days in his room now, never going out. He's surprised he hasn't died from starvation yet, he hasn't eaten in several days. Though, when he does eat, it's very small.

He looks like the dead. Boney and unhealthy. He could see his ribcage and clavicle. He bet a tune could be played off of them. He understood why people didn't like him, but he didn't understand why people found him attractive. He was sick and twisted and all around fucked up. He was dirty and ugly. He was only good for what people wanted out of him, and that was only one thing.

He rips his eyes from the mirror and steps back. He needs a drink, something hard and strong. He needs a fix but he just had his last one. He needed it bad but he had nothing but alcohol. The hallway swam as he walked down it, the floor boards beginning to stain with his blood. He could barely walk strength much less stand.

He fell to the ground with a grunt. He needed it, but he didn't have it. He looked forwards, intending to stand up again, but stopped once he saw what was in front of him. It was a mirror. But unlike the one he was recently staring into, this one was clean and gleaming. There was a blue sheen to it that made is heart clench. He couldn't bring himself from looking away from it no matter how much burning sentiment the colour brought along with it.

He looked more closely and saw something different. Raising himself to sit on his knees he peered at the picture of the mirror. It was someone who seemed vaguely familiar. Only then did it click in his mind that it was him. The dark brown eyes, dark hair, thin but tall body, tattoos, piercings, and all, it was definitely him.

But… this version of him… he looked, healthy. His cheek bones were less hollowed but still very defined. His clavicle showed but not as sunken in as before and he couldn't see his ribs as well as before. He almost could say he was attractive. His scanned the rest of the body in front of him. There were no scars on his arms nor his torso. He hadn't seen this person since the fight that ruined it all.

He tried to stay away from life at that point. He left camp with only a mere note to tell Hazel and anyone who may care that he had his reasons. Nico didn't even bother seeing him before he left. He couldn't bear seeing him again. It still hurts thinking about him, how he yelled at him, told him how idiotic he was, how he was useless, how he hated him… Nico shook his head, blinking back the tears that started to forum in his eyes.

He couldn't start thinking of him again. He's the one that ruined it though. Nico was contempt with just standing by him, thinking that he was loved by him. But then Nico had to go and fuck it up and say that he loved him. Even if he was drunk, drunken words are sober thoughts after all.

Nico looked back at the picture in front of him. He was twenty now, at least that's what he supposed was his age. He left when he was nine-teen. It's seemed like a year or so.

The picture smiled at Nico. It was a sad smile; it looked like the picture was trying to explain something to him. Nico longed to look like that again. Happy, contempt, smiling. Nico reached out to touch the so-called reflection.

He touched the mirror gently and jerked back from it as it shattered. The glass cut his skin and the bleeding increased. But this time it was on his legs too. Nico, shaking, stood up and tried walking around the pieces of glass but fumbled and glass cut into his feet. He let out a cry as he tried to step. He pushed his arms against the wall in a vain attempt to keep himself standing. As his vision began to swim he could only think of one thing; beautiful sea green eyes and the warm arms of his Sea Prince circling him. Nico cried out as he felt pressure being placed on his arms.

That was the last thing he felt as his name was being called out in the distance before his eyes closed for what it seemed as the last time.


Reviews much obliged, again, I haven't done this before and I don't know if I should continue this cliffhangy thing.

Thanks,

Scar :}