The Lost (boyxboy) (Kellic)

Chapter 3

Kellin opened his eyes to darkness. There were no sounds, there were no lights, and he briefly wondered where he was and, if possible, if he was back home.

Am I dead? He thought to himself.

However, the faint beating of his heart thudding in his ear canceled out that option for him.

"Vic?" He mumbled hopelessly.

He sat up in the plush bed, his fingers grazing the soft material. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled his lower half to the ground. The soreness of his body ached and with every slight move he hissed, the pain hadn't so much faded away yet.

His feet maneuvered their way against the ground and he used his hands to find a light switch.

And once he flicked on the lights, realization dawned upon him. He wasn't home. He was still there with the kidnappers.

His eyes teared up but he refused to let the dozens of tears fall again. He wanted to be done being weak, but he couldn't. No matter how much he pleaded and begged his subconscious to just stop, it wouldn't. Despite his greatest efforts, a tear slid down his cheek.

He turned his body to look in the mirror.

Vic was looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The flesh around his eyes raw, and the bags underneath them heavy and purple. His hair was a disheveled mess and his eyes a bloodshot red. His skin had drained itself to an unhealthy pale color, the once tan skin no longer healthy and glowing, but defeated and sick.

His reflection had sickened him because it only reminded him that he wasn't strong enough or quick enough or even smart enough to be there when Kellin was taken. If he would've just thought through what he was going to do then none of it would've ever happened.

And like that he got angry. Blaming himself and cursing the world as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

His tears welled up and he was so sick of seeing himself cry and pitying himself. He was just so angry.

He snapped and hit the glass. The force impactful and strong as his knuckles came in contact with the cold surface. It rained down in shattered pieces that glinted in the dim bathroom light, stained red. His reflection cracked in the mirror, shards hung off of it dangerously.

He turned away from himself, too disgusted to continue looking.

He stepped into the shower, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor. The water scorched his skin, turning the color bright red against it. Steam swirled up and left the bathroom as red droplets fell from his fingertips.

The blood mixed in with the water, turning a lighter shade, pink almost, and slipped down into the drain.

His tears also mixed in with the water, disappearing and vanishing as if they were never there. But when Vic finally stepped out of the shower, knuckles raw and skin pink, it was evident he had been crying. The skin under his eyes tired and swollen, and sniffles that came from his nose, and then there was the shattered mirror, pieces still glinting in the sink almost viciously.

And Kellin looked at the broken mirror. He looked at his reflection that stared back cracked, sad and broken. Who had he become?

The pieces from the mirror dangled dauntingly in front of him. His knuckles, too, stained with the bright red color he had come so accustomed to seeing on his skin.

The sad blue color of his eyes stood out against the faint red veins that surrounded them. With his unused hand, he pushed his hair out of his face and stared at the broken reflection.