[ ! ] » Reflection

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[ ! ] This chapter could be uncomfortable for some readers, this chapter can be skipped and the story would still make sense. Please read at your own discretion.

The following scenes contains abuse.



"It's been awhile since we met like this." My reflection smiled.

His hair was slicked back, to show off his smug expression. His clothes look new, and had no creases or folds. A version of me that was perfect in everyone's eyes.

"Let's talk." My reflection laughed.
"I'm surprised you had it in you, are not afraid?" He said as he got closer to the mirror. 

Cain started to appear as my reflection, during the second day of my first punishment. No one else saw him but me. As a child he was the only comfort I had, in this dark room.

"The faster you let me out, the more likely you will be able to leave." He coaxed me, while his hands started to reach out.
"Castiel, stop hesitating, I can get you out of here. Let us switch." His hands were out of the mirror now. Waiting for me to accept his hand.

I never remember what happens after I accept his hand, but as promised I was always got out of the room when I came to my senses. His hands held a promise that have never been broken before.

"Go away, Cain." I told him, slapping his hand away.
"But, why? Have I ever failed you before?" He asked me.
"I can't rely on you forever." I stated, while taking a seat on the dusty floor.

Cain looked down to me and smiled. It was similar to father's, a smile that had no kindness. I wish to never smile like that. Even though Cain looked exactly like me, his presence is different. When I look at him, I don't see myself, I see my father's attitude and presence. I hated it. 

The lock on the door clicked open, I stared at the doorway. A maid came in carrying a bucket and a plate of food, then left. I look at the food, a half a loaf of bread and water. So my week of torment begins.

I sat there in the dark, looking at my reflection. Sometimes it was me, other times it was Cain, persuading me to switch out. There was no clock to tell the time, but I know a day had passed when the maid brings in my meal. The longer I stayed in here, the less food I got.

I was starving, my stomach was eating itself out. Some nights I laid curled up on the cold floor, sweating, and clenching my jaw. Trying to ignore the pain in my stomach, but it wouldn't stop. I started to realize that I was salivating, when I heard the door unlocked. I couldn't see the maid's face, all I saw was the food in her hand. 

One day I woke up to my palms being bloody, with my nails digging into my skin. I stared at my blood, slowly oozing out. It was comforting, how warm it was compared to the room.

Cain continued to appear in the mirror, but only laughed at my appearance. "If you had switched out earlier, you wouldn't be feeling any of this."

I was too weak to banter with him, the amount of water I got also started to decrease. My throat was dry, my voice was raspy. If I had try to talk, I would've sounded like a toad.

I woke up to getting doused in cold water. I stared at my father, who stood there with a bucket in one hand and a whip in another.

"It seems you still did not reflect on your actions." He said. 
"Sit up, and face the other way." He ordered. My body was weak, but it was able to move itself.

A snapping sound was heard, the sound of leather touching my back. It burned and stung my back at the same time. It continued. But the pain stopped, did my father had pity on me? But I still heard the sound of the whip being swung. My back became numb to the pain and started to feel warm.

"Castiel, I'm loosing my patience." My father stated, then walked out of the room. After he closed the door, my body finally fell over, and hit the concrete floor.

"Castiel, you can't handle anymore of this, let's switch." Cain said.

His voice sounded like a devil, it was the sound of a promised blessing. I laid on my side to looked to where Cain stood, unfazed by my miserable body. 

"Cain." My voice raspy.
"Yes, are we switching now?" His voice was excited.
"No."
"Then, why did you call me?"
"How do you act, when we switch?" I questioned him.

There was silence. Then laughter.

He squatted down closer to my eye level. He still looked polished and dignified. An appearance that resembled my father more than my mother.

He gave me that cruel smile again and whispered, "I acted like his ideal son of course." 


Word count: 842

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