A/N: The lyrics belongs to Curtis Stigers. Dark fic. Edited: 07.12.06
Mirror, Mirror
written by Whipper
Mind your manners, watch your ways
Be a good boy, just behave
What's wrong with you? Settle down
Keep your two feet on the ground
Sit up straight, stand up tall
Never falter, never fall
Stay in school, make your grade
Never fail and never fade
Be a hero, be a star
Anything but what you are
Find a girl to posses
Always paid, pursue, protect
Be the master, be a slave
Work your ass into an early grave
Lucas was sitting in his bed, his face pressed hard against the cold surface of the aqua tubes. He was staring into the black water with blank, unseeing eyes. A small sound created by a change in the seaQuest engine startled the boy and his eyes automatically went to the small watch beside his bed, a gift from Captain Bridger. The blinking numbers announced the time as 04:13.
Slowly, careful not to rise to quickly and provoke a dizzy spell, the boy got up from the bed and walked over to the small bathroom. A part of him, a part of him that he nowadays very seldom paid attention to, couldn't help but noticing the way his hands were shaking as he turned on the light and closed the door behind him. But another, more dominant, part just didn't give a damn. Besides, he had become rather used to shaking hands and dizzy spells by now.
As he started to take off his clothes it becomes annoyingly clear that the small trembling wasn't going to stop. It didn't matter much when it came to taking off his jeans; they were several numbers too big for him and all he had to do to remove them was to take off the belt and they would fall down by themselves. But to unbutton the shirt was an entirely different matter. His hands refused to obey him, or more correctly, they were unable to. Finally his patience ran out and he pulled off the offending piece of clothing tearing lose a button in the process. Throwing away the shirt he went to the mirror.
The face that met the teenager was pale with large, dark circles around blue eyes. The boy in the mirror didn't look very happy and he seemed to stare at Lucas. An angry, accusing stare. And Lucas knew exactly why they were so angry. Why they looked at him so accusing.
He was a failure. He was stupid. Stupid...and ugly. So fucking ugly that he made even himself sick.
People had been telling him that all his life. Not in his face of course, and never using those very words. But they didn't need to. He understood. He knew. He was a disappointment. His parents were disappointed in him, he knew that. Why else would they have left him? Not that he could blame them. He never could do anything good enough. He never could be good enough.
The eyes in the mirror stared at him again; confirming his thoughts and adding their own two cents.
That's right, Wolenczak! You are no good. No good! You are a lazy, good for nothing, ugly as sin screw up! You...
The voice, surprisingly like that of his mother, seemed to be at loss for words a few moments but then they continued. Leaving Lucas with no other choice but to listen.
...you, you...freak! And as if that wasn't enough; you're fat as well. Do you hear me, Wolenczak?! You. Are. Fat. I've told you time and time again, but do you listen? Of course not! When do you ever listen? Oh, no! You think you know best... As usual... But let me tell you something, Wolenczak; you disgust me! You make me down right ill! Sitting there on your fat ass stuffing your face with chocolate and God knows what else...getting fatter for every day that goes by. You make me sick! How many times have I told you that, Wolenczak? How many times have I told you that?
On the other side of the mirror Lucas whispered an answer; unable to deny that voice, those eyes anything.
So you were listening! Then there's no fucking excuse for you to do it! No excuse! Do you hear me, Wolenczak?
The face in the mirror moved his head simultaneous as Lucas.
I think you're long overdue for a little punishment, Wolenczak! Some serious punishment... Don't you agree...Wolenczak?
With eyes blank with unshed tears Lucas agreed. He didn't know if it was just his imagination but the eyes in the mirror seemed to glitter with hidden laughter.
So...what should your punishment be? You have any suggestions, Wolenczak?
Somehow Lucas managed to press out an answer out of his tight throat. His voice was harsh and filled with fear.
I didn't think so either... You are already being punished, now aren't you, Wolenczak?
A quick nod answered the voice.
No food for...what...three days? And you're on your second day... Have you been eating, Wolenczak?
The voice already knew the answer to that, of course he knew. He knew everything. And it was all because of the eyes. Those eyes, so very like his own. They saw everything he did and they remembered.
Have you been disobeying me?
Upon hearing what the voice heard Lucas bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. The eyes in the mirror seemed to grow colder. Colder and meaner.
You have, now haven't you? Sick! You make me sick! Such a simple order, Wolenczak, such a very, very simple order... Do. Not. Eat. For. Three. Days. What of 'do not eat for three days' don't you understand?
"'m sorry...'m so sorry...please...please..."
But Lucas words, spoken out of fear, didn't seem to have any effect the hard voice.
'Sorry'? You're 'sorry'? You're a sissy, Wolenczak. Begging like a little kid. Like mom's little baby. Except...you never were mom's little baby, now where you?
So evil. So very, very evil...
Stop that crying! Sit up! That's better, Wolenczak. Now, you know what to do...now don't you? Answer me!
"Yes...yes, sir. I know what to do."
Then what are you waiting for? Coward!
Lucas quickly made his way to the toilet. He wanted to stall, he wanted to run and run and run and never stop...but he didn't dare to. The voice would find him, the eyes would see him no matter where he was.
His hands hadn't stopped shaking and as he forced them to move closer to his face they started to shake even more. They looked like pale birds; birds that had never learned how to fly, birds that had always been imprisoned. Never free. Never truly alive.
What are you waiting for?
Quickly, not allowing himself any time to change his mind, he pushed two fingers deep down his already sore throat. Almost nothing came up; but that didn't really matter. This was symbolic. This was punishment. All that mattered was the pain. And it did hurt. His stomach hurt, his throat hurt...even his teeth seemed to hurt. His entire body was protesting at it's treatment.
But he deserved it.
The voice was right.
And he was a coward to try to run away from what he deserved. From his punishment. He was a coward...A week, disgusting little coward. A week, disgusting coward that cried like a baby. Lucas took a deep breath and then another trying to regaining even a shadow of control. Grabbing some paper he wiped first his eyes, then his mouth.
'I'm baaaack...' The teenager tried to smile at the joke as he walked back to the mirror.
Done already, Wolenczak? I'm impressed. But don't even for a moment think that we're done. You're in for a world of pain, 'boy'...
Lucas couldn't help the shudder that wrecked his small body as he heard the word; 'boy'. It was such a normal word...such a normal word that triggered such a very, very... 'not normal' response in the teenager. 'Boy' was what one of his mothers several boyfriends had been calling him. The one that he had learned so very much from. He had learned when to duck and when to remain passive... Not to cry and never to complain. Just accept what he got, and never tell.
'Boy'...
The very word was enough to make him break down and cry.
And the voice knew it.
'pain', 'boy', 'punishment', 'freak', 'boy', 'coward', 'sissy', 'you deserve it', 'boy'...
Hot, scolding tears started to flow down his pale cheeks as he fell down on the floor, shaking, unable to control his reactions. Unable to control anything. The eyes in the mirror where gone, as where the hated voice. But it seemed like if the sound of it lingered in the small room, echoed between the walls...
...'boy'...
It sounded more content, more... satisfied than Lucas could ever remember it sounding before. As if it knew that it's job was done.
But you deserved to be loved
You deserve something real
Time to heal, time to feel
Lucas was staring at the white ceiling of the bathroom when the door to his room opened. His eyes where fixed on all that whiteness; drawn to the 'nothingness' of it. He never heard how someone walked through his room, never saw the door being pulled open. He never saw the look of pure horror and shock on his Captain's face as he entered the room.
"Lucas? Lucas! Oh, my God...Lucas..."
But he heard that voice; that voice that had brought him comfort so many times, a voice that had given him small glints of what life could be... without pain or tears. He heard, but he was unable to act. Unable to answer, unable to move his head to see the face belonging to that voice.
It scared him.
But yet he was strangely calm.
Because even if he were to die...
At least he would be leaving with hope in his heart.
The End