Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Oysters

The Mirrors Truth

by Wicked_Lovely 2 reviews

And then everything made sense.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Fantasy,Horror - Published: 2011-09-08 - Updated: 2011-09-13 - 1702 words

"You have to take your medication Ry." Spencer was washing the dishes, trying to finish cleaning up the mess from breakfast before he had to go to work.
"What if I don't want to." Ryan was watching Spencer, sitting at the table with his pills in a small blue bowl and a tall glass of water on the wooden surface in front of him. His legs were crossed, his eyes dark as he stared down at the different colored capsules.
"Please Ryro? I don't want to fight with you." Ryan gave a sigh, scooping the pills in his hand before tossing them in the back of his throat. He downed the glass of water, swallowing each and every capsule. Spencer kissed the top of his head. "That's a good boy. I'm going to go to work. I'll be back at twelve to take you to school and bring you lunch, kay?"
"Okay." Spencer gave Ryan a soft smile, before he walked out the door. Ryan held still, listening to the garage door open, the car turn on, and the garage door close again. Ryan sighed, getting up. He wandered around the house, leaning against the walls as he tried to keep himself up. He made his way to the library, staring at the large red curtain. He walked over to it, gripping it with both of his hands. With what little strength he had, he tore the red fabric down, looking at the painted wall that hid behind it.
He ran his hand over the painting, feeling as if it were real. The wall had a large blue door painted on it, a design that looked as if it were carved in the woodwork. Yet, the surface was smooth, as if it had been painted on glass. His brows knitted together as he stared at it, running his fingers over the silver frame that surrounded the painting. It was ice cold, the design on the frame matching that of the locket that hung around his neck. There were two small holes at the top, both in the shape of ovals.
With a sigh, Ryan plucked a book off of the closest shelf, settling in the dark purple chair that sat close to the fireplace in the library.

"Hey kid, it's time to get up." Ryan looked up to see Spencer smiling at him. He stretched, the open book that was on his lap falling to the floor from the movements.
"What time is it?" He yawned out as he looked over at the older boy.
"Time for you to go fix your hair and makeup so you can go to school." Spencer said with a small laugh, picking up the book that fell to the floor. Ryan nodded, standing on two shaky legs. "Need help?" Ryan shook his head, chestnut hair falling in his face as he did so.
"I'm okay." Ryan walked out of the room, making his way to his washroom where he stared at himself in the mirror. Spencer hollered something about dinner, though it was to muffled from behind the wooden door for Ryan to understand it. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to wake himself up at least a little. He sighed, staring at the man on the other side of the mirror.
There was a small scar on his cheekbone, one that he knew would never fade, though all the bruises had disappeared. His hair was messy, stray locks falling in his face as others seemed to be matted together on the sides and in the back. There were light bags under his eyes, showing that he hadn't gotten much sleep the past few days. He ran a hand through his hair, untangling it slightly with his fingers. His busted lip had healed, he didn't have a black eye, and- there was another scar on his forehead.
He let his gaze fall downwards, staring at the sink as he let out a shaky breath. He looked back up at the mirror, silently thanking the fact that Spencer had gotten him a long sleeve shirt for the day. He picked up the comb that rested on the sink, quickly running it through his hair until he decided it was passable. He didn't bother worrying about makeup; he was too afraid that he might start crying and have to deal with it running down his face.
Ryan walked out of the washroom, making his way to the kitchen to find Spencer cleaning. There was a meal on the table, hot soup, fruit, and a glass of lemonade. Ryan sat at the table remembering Spencer's promise to bring home lunch.
"How ya holding up?" Spencer asked as he finished cleaning the last dish, placing it delicately on the drying rack.
"Okay I guess." Ryan mumbled as he picked up the spoon that sat by the bowl filled with soup. He ate slowly, having a hard time gagging the food down. It wasn't that the food wasn't good, he just wasn't used to eating much. He never had the money for a good meal.
"Ready to go back to school?" Ryan looked over at Spencer, hating the teasing tone he had in his voice.
"Not really." Ryan mumbled as he continued to eat.

Spencer was sitting at the table, hands pulling on his hair as he stared at the bills that sprawled across the wooden surface. He was warn from a long day at work, feeling like he could cave and fall asleep at any moment. "Just barley out of high school and you're already up to your knees in debt. What now?" Spencer muttered to himself. He needed a second job, something to help pay off Ryan's medication. Even with that he wasn't going to be able to eat on a regular basis.
He closed his eyes, the realization that he was going to have to start working the streets again hitting him like a slap to the face. It wasn't like he wanted to, but he knew that he had no other options. There was no way he was going to let Ryan down. He stood, walking to the library where he knew the other boy would be.
Ryan was there, sitting on the floor while staring at a large painting on the wall. "Hey Ry, I'm going out for a bit. All right?" Ryan turned, looking at Spencer. There were tears in his eyes, making Spencer rush over to him. He hugged Ryan, having the other boy bury his face in his chest.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked as he rubbed his back as gently as possible.
"Spence, am I ugly?" Ryan looked up at the other boy, making him feel sick. Spencer tightened his grip on the other boy, having Ryan bury his face back in his chest.
"How could you think of something like that?" Spencer's voice let the disbelief leak out, a frown on his face as he looked at Ryan's arms. The bandages were off, showing all of the deep red lines that covered them. Spencer rubbed Ryan's back, whispering in the younger boys ear. "Shh, it's okay. You're not ugly darling. Trust me." Ryan nodded, pulling away from Ryan.
"Sorry." His voice was hardly a whisper; a weak and shaky sound.
"For what?" Spencer asked as his brows furrowed together.
"Everything." Ryan muttered, looking down at his hands.
"Will you be okay if I leave for an hour or two?" Ryan nodded, looking over at Spencer.
"Yeah. I'll be fine." Ryan gave a shaky sigh. Spencer looked at him, biting on his bottom lip as he debated leaving Ryan alone.
"All right. I'm gonna leave. If you need anything just call, kay?" Ryan nodded and Spencer stood, making his way to the door. He slipped on his shoes, grabbing his jacket and his keys before walking out the door.
Ryan looked back up at the wall. He had been watching the painting for hours, seeing it move and change ever so slightly. He looked at the frame, his eyes going up it before looking at the top. The two holes at the top confused him more than the purpose of the painting in the old house. With a small groan he stood, gripping his burning ribs. He pulled a chair over to the painting, standing on it so he could trace the two holes.
And then everything made sense.
He took the locket off, opening it. He pulled the piece of paper out of it, putting it in his pocket as carefully as he could. His fingers pressed the open locket into the two holes, having it fit the spot perfectly. Stepping off of the chair he watched as the surface of the painting seemed to ripple like water. Paint chipped off of it, the flakes falling to the ground. Ryan watched in confusion as his reflection came into view.
There were still slight specks of paint covering the surface of the wall, though most of it had the reflective surface of a mirror. Moving the chair out of the way he stood in front of it, staring at it in confusion. He brushed the surface with his fingertips, watching it ripple like water.
He took a step back, hoping that it was just his imagination. He walked out of the room, going into his bedroom to try and get some sleep.
Whatever it was, he would bother Spencer about it tomorrow.


PartyPoison:I was soooo sick like on Tuesday I think? I had a hard time moving from the couch to the floor. (Which I did a lot.) But it's okay, because I'm better now.
I heard about that! Some of my friends told me that it can work wonders, thought I've never tried it myself. I prefer staying awake so I can write lovely chapters to lovely stories for lovely people~
(Maybe I'm still a little sick and on a lot of medication with very little sleep.)

RydenBeliever:Ha! I did update soon. Proud of me?

AnotherKnifeInMyHand:I love fantasty worlds. And it's going to get pretty intense pretty soon. I have big plans for this story, and I'm hoping that it'll turn out well.

-xoxo Pansy.
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