Mercury

Two

Mercury jolts awake, her body covered in a sheen of sweat and her delicate complexion glistening under the dim light. With clammy hands, she reaches over to the nightstand and opens the drawer, retrieving her trusted white bottle of pills. "Stupid night terrors," she mutters, unscrewing the cap. Despite the fresh cuts across her stomach and bleeding hands that often accompanied her awakening, the night terrors no longer held the power to frighten her. In her dreams, she possessed an awareness that she was, indeed, dreaming.

However, a part of her remained fearful, for it seemed that her dormant demons were summoned during the night. Her sleep resembled an eternal inferno, with suppressed memories unraveling at the seams and the door to insanity and psychosis swinging wide open.

Slipping out of her queen-sized bed, Mercury glances at the clock—3:26 am, the dreaded hour known as the devil's hour. She descends the stairs, her silver hair resembling moonlight as it cascades down her back, dressed in a satin gown. As she enters the lounge, she sees a figure sitting there—none other than the devil himself. A Jack Daniels shot glass rests in his hand, while the television plays static. Mercury moves past the lounge and heads to the kitchen, taking deep breaths to steady herself for whatever may come. However, this time, nothing happens.

The golden streaks of dawn pour through the window frame, signaling morning's arrival. If not for the vibration of her alarm, Mercury would have likely overslept. It is now five in the morning—the crack of dawn. Just as she did a few hours earlier, she descends the stairs to the kitchen, where her father sits, engrossed in his morning routine—sipping his cappuccino and fixated on his phone. Her mother, already dressed for work, boils water for her tea. "Aren't you going to greet me?" her father's voice fills the empty space, barely audible over the hissing of the kettle. Mercury's heart quickens, and she swallows the lump in her throat. "Good morning, Dad. Good morning, Mum," she greets them, her desire to pour scalding coffee into her father's eyes momentarily suppressed. She glances at him, noticing how he slurps his coffee loudly, his narrowed eyes fixed on her.

"Did you sleep well?" Mercury knows that steering the conversation toward him would satisfy him enough to prevent him from lashing out at her. His face relaxes noticeably, and he sits up in his chair, signaling his impending departure for work. "I slept particularly well. Must've been the whiskey I had last night..." she grimaces internally at his alcoholism. Her mind drifts away from his words as she mumbles a goodbye to his retreating form. Pouring herself a cup of tea, she waits for her mother's acknowledgement. Finally, her tired-eyed mother meets her gaze. "You know better than to upset him," her mother admonishes before leaving. Mercury clenches the handle of her mug tightly, feeling sweat form on her palms. After all, how could she forget that she brought headaches upon her family? She was the violent storm that disrupted her parents' once content lives. But she didn't ask to be born, so they must endure her. Just as she must endure them.

Right on time, she hears the front door open and close, followed by the familiar sound of footsteps entering the kitchen. "You look like shit," Violet, her best friend, tells her. No, not just her friend—her soulmate. Mercury and Violet had a bond so profound that they often joked about being related in a past life, for their understanding of each other ran deep. They make their way up to Mercury's room, where Violet flops onto the bed and begins counting the stars on the ceiling while waiting for her friend to finish showering. So far, she has counted one thousand and nine. Mercury slips on her black hoodie and black bike shorts, dons her favorite pair of gloves and boots, reveling in the way black accentuates her silver hair and sets her apart from others.

Violet wears a similar outfit in shades of gray, with leggings and a cropped jumper. Together, they form the ultimate duo. Exiting the once again empty house, a routine they repeat several times a week, they climb into Violet's Mazda. They drive for breakfast, but this time, it's not to their usual spot, much to Mercury's disapproval. "Where the hell are we going?" Violet lets out an exasperated sigh. She should have discussed the idea with her friend beforehand; she knows that Mercury is not one for spontaneous plans unless she comes up with them herself. "To breakfast... but with Nick. I know, I know, I should have told you, but please do me this one favor." She glances at Mercury, who keeps her gaze fixed ahead. Her lips pout, and her eyebrows furrow—she is clearly annoyed. However, Violet understands that Mercury would never truly be angry with her. Mercury makes an exception for Violet, and for that, Violet is grateful.

Violet pulls into a dingy-looking diner, with a beat-up SUV as the only other vehicle parked there. The two girls synchronize their actions as they step out of the car—swapping lip glosses, fixing their hair—although they both know they look good. It is only natural for them to be the prettiest and most iconic duo in their school. They reign at the top of the social hierarchy, and attending an all-girls school makes it even easier. Two figures huddle over a table, and a frown forms on Mercury's face when she sees the familiar dark locks. She glances at Violet, who practically races past her, hips swaying from side to side. Mercury observes as her best friend and Nick embrace each other, figuring out what to do next. There is no point in Mercury lingering, even if the only seat available is next to the asshole who hasn't even acknowledged her.

"Mercury, hey!" Startled, she feels Nick's arms pull her into a quick hug—a gesture she doesn't appreciate. Politely, she pats his shoulder and slides into the booth. She senses his presence engulfing and suffocating her, and although they both refuse to make eye contact, she knows they both want to. She busies herself with the menu, already deciding that she will order a matcha green tea latte with sourdough toast. Although it is their usual order, she is curious to see if her best friend will change her choice based on the company. Glancing up at Violet, she rolls her eyes at the PDA they put no effort into hiding—this is not how she planned to spend her morning. Grabbing her phone, she slides out of the booth and walks outside, where the cold air nips at her exposed skin.

Mercury isn't happy. Despite Nick's friendly and giddy behavior, he has disrupted her usual schedule, throwing things out of her control. She is left in a state of uncertainty, unsure of what to do. "Aren't you cold?" His voice sends shivers up her spine, but she refuses to respond. He walks over to her and stands in front, towering above her. He gazes down into her eyes, his fiery intensity seeping through her skin. "Fine, stay in the cold. I won't give you a ride then." He leans back and begins swinging his keys, heading toward his car. But deep inside, the thought of spending even five minutes with him infuriates her to the point of excitement. Unable to resist, she sashays her way over to his car and opens the passenger seat.

His pink lips curl into a smirk as he places a cigarette between them, reversing the car out of the parking lot. She smoothens her hands down her legs and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth before chucking it out of the window. Before his eyes meet her she smirks to herself - did he think he called the shots in this situation?

Pushing her seat back and feeling his green eyes pierce through her skin she puts her feet up on the dashboard and faces the storm brewing next to her.

"I'm Mercury."