Ravens Hollow

Act oo1:

Gil always had an affect on Oz. Everyone knew that. Gil was Oz's pillar. That one main beam in the house, that sat in the center, that kept it from falling. Oz's mother had died when he was still really young. Since, he had grown up with the maids raising him, barely ever seeing his father. And the rare times he got to see the man, his eyes were constantly full of disapproval. And if you looked a little closer, you could see the resentment, and the hate.

A couple of the maids, that weren't fond of Oz for one reason or another, claimed it was because his mother had cheated on the man Oz called father, and they claimed Oz wasn't his son. Some claimed it was because Oz looked exactly like his mother, and it hurt the older man.

The truth was; Oz was an accident. Zai hadn't wanted a child then.

And the day it all came out was a sad day indeed. For the people that cared the deepest for the young blond.

Oz, barely even ten, sat in his room, door locked, sitting at the headboard of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes screwed shut, his hands pressed tightly over his ears. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't block out the voice.

"You should never have been born."

It echoed, and echoed, until Oz couldn't take it anymore. He jumped off his bed, screaming. He pulled the sheets off, threw the pillows across his room, shoved everything off his side table, and moved to the desk, where he shoved all of his books, and papers off, shattering his desk lamp in the process, along with a photo frame of a young, blond woman with bright, emerald green eyes. The glass cracked, causing a spider-web effect.

Oz didn't notice. His head had shot up, and his eyes landed on the mirror across the over-sized room.

It's all your fault.

He thought to the mirror. Staring back at him as he approached the glass was a ten-year-old, blond boy with emerald green eyes that dulled with each step.

"He doesn't want you. He isn't happy with you. And it's your fault. You weren't good enough." He told the mirror with each step.

It seemed as if the figure in the mirror was standing still. The boy's shoulders seemed to slump, and he lifted his head, turning it ever so slightly to the right.

Is it me he isn't happy with? Is it really me he doesn't want? Are you sure you're not the one that's good enough?

It had his voice, and its lips moved on the other side of the mirror. It was talking back to him. The figure in the mirror seemed to stay in the same stance as Oz himself tensed up, clenched his fists and raised them.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled, and just as the figure in the mirror opened his mouth to argue back, Oz slammed his bare fist into the surface, shattering the glass into small pieces, cutting his hand in the process, scattering blood in a trail as he moved his hand back, letting it fall to his side. He kept his head up, but lowered his gaze to the glass. "It was you. And now, you're gone."

But the voice was still there.

"You should never have been born, Oz."

It was his voice.

His own voice.

No. It's that...Monster's voice. The one from the mirror. He thought to himself, not realizing he was picking up a piece of the mirror. He lifted it, so only his eyes showed in the slip. The eyes on the other side were smirking back at him. "GO AWAY!" Oz screamed. Without a second thought, he brought his other arm up, placed the glass on his skin and slid it across with pure ease.

The pain wasn't there, but a scream escaped his lips. Frustration, maybe? And another slice was made.

He was too busy trying to destroy the voice within his head, he didn't even hear the two voices on the other side of his door. One belonged to his loving, little sister; Ada. The other belonged to his own personal servant; Gilbert, who was more commonly known as Gil. He was too lost in his own world to hear that someone was slamming against the door, he didn't even hear the wood splinter as, by some weird miracle, the door busted open. Oz didn't hear either of them scream. He only came back to reality when he felt tiny hands grab his shirt, and bigger hands, but still small, grab his wrist holding the glass, and carefully grab his other hand.

When he came back to reality, emerald met gold, and a silent plea for help passed his lips before Oz fainted into his servant, and best friend's, arms. He could barely hear the faint cries from the two for him to wake up. All he did was smile at the comforting warmth that was given to him from his friend as he was held close.

T.B.C.