Breaking The Mirror [Edited And Complete]

Sting? Bee Sting?

"Oh shit."

That was Seaton, after he yanks away from me. I haven't blinked for way too long and think I may die of shock. Kiss. Seaton. Me. Those are three words I never thought would ever go together. I don't... what the fuck?

"Holy fuck," He curses again.

I don't know what to do.

So I do nothing.

I stare straight ahead, perhaps at the opposite wall, but my stare doesn't actually settle on one specific thing. I don't move, I've gotten pretty used to stillness over the years although I desperately want to fidget. Want to wriggle in nervousness, but I don't. I just do nothing and say nothing.

"That never happened," He tells me, looking my straight in the eye.
Maybe I was talking too much. Yeah! That's it. I was talking too much and...that was some pretty disturbing stuff. He just wanted me to shut up. God, I'm stupid.

"That never happened, understood, brat?" He repeated again, just as icily.
"Yes, sir," I nod, gulping. He doesn't correct my use of 'sir' instead of 'Seaton'. Should I keep calling him that? He always manages to make everything more confusing.

"Listen to me," He says suddenly, and it's in his usual tone of voice. That tone that's never before kissed me. Kissed me. Kissed me. "You're not disgusting, brat, okay? It's that fucking sicko who d –and your ass hole dad, get it? You're the victim and you'll damn well act like it!"

"No," I reply simply. No. Not going to happen.

"You've got to take both these bastards to court and get a good lawyer –I'll even pay for one –hell! You can use mine!" Wait. What? Seaton has a lawyer? He can afford a lawyer? Last time I checked cops get shit salary and he doesn't seem to have any job at the time, "But if you don't do something...I won't let you not do something! You're only going back to that hellhole over my dead body!"

Wait. Not go back? He does know I'm barely comprehending a word he's saying, right?

Because he fucking kissed me.

And now it's like it never happened.

Oh hell. What if it really never happened? What if I'm going crazy or schizophrenic and I just imagined he kissed me.

Damn. That would totally suck.

"You. Are. Not. Disgusting." He snarls, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me out of my revere, "Repeat it."

I blink, "You are not disgusting...?"

"Not me, you, idiot," He snaps and he's so close it's like he's about to kiss me again. Or bite me. And not one of those 'love bites' either. One of those 'I don't like you, so I'm causing you pain until you do what I say' bites.

"I...I am not disgusting...?" I stammer. Man, I'm glad that's over.

"Again."

"Wha -? No, I –"

"I said, again, brat, so fucking say it again. Like you believe it."

But I don't believe it.

"I am not disgusting," I repeat.

"Again."

"I am not disgusting."

They say that if you say something enough times, you start to believe it. I wonder if that's true. But most of all, I wonder who the hell 'they' are and why the fuck I should listen to what they have to say.