What Exactly Happened: Part 7

Even though it hurt him to think so, there was something more important that needed to be done, something that needed to be said, and Ryan couldn't wait.

Ryan shook his head slowly, almost in disbelief. And with that he turned, his footsteps echoing throughout the empty apartment. As he did so, he looked one last time back at the mirror, meeting those same haunting eyes that he'd seen every night for the past fourteen years. They were fixed on him. He knew that they were.

And he couldn't help but wonder what was going through Ryan's mind as he walked away from him. Couldn't help but wonder if he regretted coming back, whether it had ever been his intention to come back. Had Ryan ever truly loved him? Did Ryan love him anymore? Was there anything left between them besides hate? And how did Ryan know him? What did Ryan know about him? What had he done over the years that Ryan knew him? And how had he allowed himself to become someone else? How could he have done this? Why had he let things get so out of control? Because deep down he had never truly forgiven himself for letting things go so wrong. Never forgiven himself for the pain he'd caused. Never forgives himself for hurting Sarah and killing his parents, never forgives himself for being the reason for his mother's death and for ruining everything good in her life, and ever forgives himself for everything. And that anger inside of him, the anger that he had held onto since his brother's murder and kept buried deep inside his heart, had always burned in his chest whenever the subject of him or his family came up. Until he could no longer hold it. Every day, every hour, every minute that he lived without thinking about it was agony. He was angry at the world for what had happened, he was angry at himself for doing nothing, for allowing everything to fall apart and for having let so much good in his life slip through his fingers. There was a part of him that wanted revenge. A part of him wanted to see Ryan pay for what he had done to him. A part of him wished that somehow, Ryan would pay for what he had caused by killing his mother. But that was just childish, irrational. It would never change the past. All that mattered was what he could prevent from coming true; Ryan was the one person who could ruin everything for him. If he found out, he'd kill him.

He'd probably start by cutting off his own hands and feet first.

That was all he deserved anyway. He deserved every bit of what he had endured these past sixteen years. He deserved every bit of suffering that he'd endured. He deserved every ounce of misery that he's caused.

But Ryan's gaze had remained fixed upon Ryan's reflection long after he disappeared from view and long after he disappeared from his thoughts. Even after Ryan could no longer see him, the ghost continued staring intently at him. The same look he had when Ryan had told him he killed his parents. The look of pity and sympathy. The look that Ryan hated so desperately. The look reminded him of his mother and his father. The look he had never wanted. It was the same expression that used to haunt his nightmares, that haunted his dreams until he was old enough to understand the truth behind it. But there were times when he wondered if he could ever truly escape the past. The past that had taken everything from him - from him, Sarah, Ryan, even Ryan's parents. From him. From his life.

Ryan turned away from the mirror, heading for the door. The second he passed the threshold he froze in place, unable to move another inch.

To be continued...