Title: Reflections in the Mirror -Merceds POV
Author: Fyre
Category: Drama/Angst
Rating:PG-13
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.

My brother Mo has been on my ass about me writing this stupid thing ever since I turned 16. That was almost seven months ago. Personally if you ask me, it has to be the single--most stupidest idea Mo has ever thought of, an' believe me Mo has thought of some pretty stupid ideas in the past.

The -last- thing I want to write 'bout would be my childhood. The -last- thing I wanna think 'bout is what happened. Isn't bad enough that I had to go through it once? Now Mo wants me to write 'bout it. To tell you the truth I wasn't going to, but somethin' happened last night, somethin' bad.

Usually I could go to Mo, an' tell him. I've always been able to go to Mo, for -everything-, but this--this is different.

Before I get to what happened let me tell you 'bout my family, jus' to shut Mo up. My ma, she's the strongest woman I know, I can only hope I'll be as strong as her when I get older. That I can be the woman my mom is. I love her so much. She's always done whatever it is to see that my brothers an' I have what we need, what we want. She's worked so many odd jobs here an' there. Just to make ends meet. There was one time where she worked three jobs, jus' so we could eat.

See my dad lost another job -again-. He got caught drinkin' on the job -again-. I'm his "little" mistake, as he likes to call it. See he didn't want one child yet alone three. When I was old enough he told me that. I was a mistake.... that the condom broke an' I shouldn't be here. That if my mother didn't have a heart; he would have forced her to have an abortion. So to him, I'll always be a mistake, I'll be worthless an' amount to nothing. Whatever, he has the right to his opinion. Make's it easier for me to hate the bastard, 'cause I do. I know hate is a harsh word, but what else is there to say. He use to not only beat me around like a rag doll, but Mikey, Mo, an' ma. It became his favorite past time, along with drinking. He's broken my arm, given me a few broken ribs, a skull fracture.... that's only a small list of what he's done. There's a lot more.

He's put my ma in the hospital a few times as well. Same goes for Mo an' Mikey. Dad was our own little shit stick in life, an' we kept getting hit with the shitty end of the stick.

Mikey.... I love him, I do, but he's got problems. He's into drugs, an' nothin' little like weed or anything. He does coke an' he doesn't seem to care that he could die from it. He keeps sayin' he's goin' to quit, that's he's goin' to get clean, yet he never does. I'm so scared he's goin' to die. I've told him that before, but he doesn't seem to care, he jus' shrugs it off. Then he sticks a straw up his nose an' does a line. Mikey lives his life from high to high; waiting for the next time he can get high. I miss my brother; the one would let me crawl into his bed during a bad thunderstorm. Who may not have been as strong as Mo, but when Mo went to the Army, to become a Ranger. Mikey did his best to see that dad didn't hurt me. He tried -so- fuckin' hard to protect me, to keep me safe, to see that the monster we called dad.... wouldn't hurt me.

Mikey said he knew he could never replace Mo, but he'd make sure he would do his best to keep me safe. Knowing that' what Mo would have done. I miss that brother; the one would pull me into his arms, wrap them around me an' tell me, everythin' was goin' to be okay. Now all I got is a brother who's so fucked up he doesn't know what day of the week it is.

Then there's Mo..... there's not enough words in the English language for me to describe how much he means to me. He became a cop, has been workin' with the 55th precinct for almost 3 years now. His partner Faith is so nice. She's becoming like a second mother to me. To bad she's married though, 'cause she'd be the prefect woman for Mo. She's so nice an' does a good job of keepin' Mo in line. My brother can be a handful sometimes, but I still love him.

He's unlike anyone I know. Whenever my dad would start on me, 'cause I left my toys up, the TV was on to loud; I didn't do this or that. Whatever it was, Mo would step in. As soon as my dad started hitting me, Mo would do something jus' as bad causing my old man to go from me to him. He takes whatever beatin' my dad decided to give that day an' not fight back. Not even bother to block any of the punches. I asked him why he does that one time, an' he simply replied. "I'm your big brother that's my job." He said jus' like that. He didn't even hesitate when he said it either. He spent his whole life lookin' out for others, protectin' those who can't protect themselves. That's why he became a cop. I really look up to him too; I plan on becoming a cop as well. I know it sounds stupid, but that's jus' how much I look up to Mo, that's how much he means to me.

Which makes what happened, an' not bein' able to tell him, all that harder. I'm scared, I'm embarrassed an' I don' want people gettin' the wrong idea, 'bout me. What if it was my fault? What if it was somethin' I did? Or maybe the way I acted? What if I dressed wrong, givin' someone the wrong idea? Whatever it was I said no. I told him no over and over an' over, 'til I could no longer say it. I even screamed it. Yet he wouldn't get off of me, he wouldn't stop. I felt so dirty, I felt so violated an' I still do. I wanna tell Mo, I've even picked up the phone, dialed his number.... only to quickly hang up when I hear his voice. He's always been the one I go to, I've always been able to tell him -everything-. But this I can't--an' he's a cop, he's the one person that could help, that could help, hold me, like he did when I was younger. Let me cry in his arms. I can't tell him, I can't tell my brother I was raped.

When it happens to other people, you say how sad, you say poor thing. When it's you, it's something else. It's everything. You'll never believe the nightmares, you'll never know the pain he caused an' you'll never see the scars he's left behind...I wanna tell Mo, what happened. I wanna tell him what he did, but I don' wanna be someone's poor thing. Maybe one day I'll be able to tell him...maybe one day.

Mo, if I don' tell you please don' be mad an' if I do tell you please don' be ashamed of me.