Title: Reflections in the Mirror -Mikey's POV
Author: Fyre
Category: Drama/Angst
Email: Boscosbabe55@bellsouth.net
AIM: ToriBoscorelli
Spoilers: Prelude to Family Matters.
Summary: Each of the three Boscorelli Children reflect on their childhood, and living with their father.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of John Wells and Edward Allen Bernero and NBC. Those lucky bastards. I'm only renting them for a while, I plan to be kind a rewind
when I return them.
A/N: This is just some idea that popped into to my head so I'm going to give it a try. If all works out there will be 3 chapters, Bosco's POV Mikey's POV and Mercedes POV. Each will occur when they are 16. Please--Please let me know what you think. Even though I highly doubt anyone will read this. I only know of like 3 or 4 people who read my works. I don't think the rest of you do.

So Mo, he said for me to do this. I guess when he turned 16, he did the same. I asked him to show it to me, but he wouldn't. I bet he didn't even do it. I tired to put up a fight sayin' how I thought the whole idea was rather stupid, which it is. Why would I wanna write about my life? It sucked, everything about it sucked!

For as long as I can remember, it's been this way too. My old man drunk, reeking of alcohol on a daily basis, taking his rage out on me an' Mo, until Love came along. Then I kinda was forgotten about. He just focused his attention mainly on Mo or Love. My old man said one kid was bad enough, he never wanted three. So when Love was born, he took his anger out on her more so then anyone else.

It use to be just Mo and I. It used to be jus' the two of us. Though Mo he'd take most of the beatings trying to protect me. If Dad started on me or something. Mo would start saying something or doin' something just to distract my dad, an' he'd get one helluva beatin'. That was probably the hardest part of the whole thing, watchin' Mo get beat by dad because of me. Or when Love was born watchin' it happen to her.

There was so much I wanted to do. I wanted to kill my old man, I wanted him to be in the same pain his children were in. I wanted him to feel what we were feelin', but I was too scared. To scared to stand up to the drunk an' defend myself or my sister.

He'd hit my ma too, he'd beat on her an' beat on her an' beat on her. I never understood why either. I couldn't understand why my father hated us so much, what did we do, that made him do all this?

I remember this one time last year, I don' know why it sticks out in my mind, but it does. Love left her Barbie dolls out an' my old man he tripped over one. He got angry. So he picked her up and shook her little body so violently. Usually he'd jus' spank her or something, and then lock her in the closet. This time he was mad drunk. He twisted her arm. I was sitting on the couch, watching all of this. I couldn't do anything either. I tried but he jus' shoved me back down. He kept twisting her arm, till finally I heard her bones snap. It was the most sicking sound ever. Then they way she cried. I still can't get that sound out of my head.

He then shoved her in this old dog kennel we had, when we use to have a dog, that was until dad ran over it. She was a little big for the cage but he didn't care. He picked her up, shoving her in the cage. She couldn't cry 'cause he'd only hurt her even more, he hated crying, he absolutely hated it an' it only angered him more. Said it was for babies, or animals. Lockin' Love in the cage, 'cause to him, she was an animal. So here she was hunched up, cradling her broken arm in pain, biting her lip so hard to keep from cryin' that it was bleeding.

Mo he saw everythin' too, but he couldn't do anythin' as well. He jus'; like me had to watch this monster beat on our baby sister. So like a coward I hid in my room, not able to watch anymore, not able to do anythin' about it. All I could do was cry an' pray she was okay.

Mo he waited hidin' in the kitchen 'til our old man passed out and went over to the cage. Breakin' the lock he got her out. I 'member him comin' up to my room, holdin' her in his arms. As she sobbed in pain, tryin' to act brave for her brothers.

It was rainin' that day, so Mo took his jacket an' draped it over Love, so she wouldn't get wet. He was soakin' wet by the time we got to the ER. Takin' Love inside. Mo said she fell off her bike, while ridin' it the rain. The doctors, the probably knew we were lyin' but didn't seem to press it.

The put her tiny little arm in a pink cast, she ended up usin' as a weapon a few times. Mo tries not to think 'bout that day, as well as many other days like that.

We came home from the hospital, an' my old man was awake. Our Mom wasn't home she had been on a mini vacation with her friends, so it was jus' the old man. When we got in, he was madder then a bitch in heat. An' went after Mo. Mo bein' who he was didn't even try to fight back, he jus' took what the old man gave him. Blow after blow. I quickly hurried Love up stairs, she didn't need to see it, she had been through enough that day.

Finally Mo came upstairs, his eye black an' blue; his nose bleedin' He was hurt, but didn't show. That's how he was, that's how he is. Loves' curled up in my lap, her arm hurting her again, as she clings to me, with a death grip. "Mo-" She whimpers sadly. "You have an owey." Mo he looks down at her an' he can see how scared she is. "I'm fine squirt." He looks up nodding in reply, tryin' to reassure me as well. I rub the back of my sister head as she sucks on her thumb, I gently swat it. "Don' do that Love you're big girl." She just nods.

Now I still don' know why I remember this day so vividly; but I do, it's like it happened yesterday.

There have been so many other time when my old man did some fucked up shit. Like the time I cam home with a bad report card an' my old man beat me so bad, I was pissin' blood an' have to be in the hospital for a week. As bad as it was an' as much as it hurt, it could have been worse. Mo he tried stoppin' him again, an' he got his ass kicked too. Not as bad as I did. The old man was pretty blowin' up by that time, soon after he passed out....like always.

Mo, he doesn't talk 'bout what happened to him much, he keeps it to himself, but he's been roughed up as many times as well. He's had a few broken ribs, a broken arm actually my old man broke that arm twice. More stitches then one can count. All 'cause he's either stood up for me, my ma or Love.

We fight 'bout stupid stuff now an' then. What brothers don'. Thing is I'm lucky to have a brother like him, I lucky that he's there for me. They say you can't pick your family, which is cool with me. Other then the fact 'bout my old man I have a great family. A brother who's always there, through thick an' thin. He'll be twice the man my father ever will be. A mother I'd die for an' love to death. Who does *whatever* it takes to see that her "babies" have what they need. A beautiful sister who's been through more shit then girls twice her age. Shit no-one should have to go through. She's head strong though, well for an Eight-year-old she is. She becomes more an' more like Mo, everyday.

There's things in life we jus' can't control, my old man he's one of them. What doesn't kill us--only makes us stronger.