As The World Turns Cold

Bittersweet Sundown

Mercy sat perched against the back of the headboard.  Her slender arms were wrapped around a stuffed teddy bear.  She had been crying for several hours now and her parents were still screaming in the next room.

"They'll kill her, Bernedette!  I'm not going to let them take away my baby's life."

Mercy heard the sound of glass breaking against the tiled flooring.  She covered her ears, to drown out the noise, but the poorly-insolated walls were too thin and every sound made it through her sensitive ears.  Mercy didn't know if the walls were actually as thin as she had assumed. Mercy was able to hear much more than the average person. Bernedette Baudelaire said it was a gift that the angels had bestowed when they had been blessed with her.  Mercy found it to be a nuisance.

"Everywhere we go, they always find a way to catch up, Jacques. Mercy has slipped on more than one occasion when we've been out in public.  She can't control what she can do. It is dangerous for all of us!"  Bernedette screamed. 

Mercy glanced in the tiny mirror across from her bed.  Her eyes gleamed bright gold in the darkness.  The door to her bedroom creaked open and her sister's tiny head popped in. 

"Mercy, can I stay?"  Lily sobbed, blubbering as she rubbed her tiny fists to her eyes. 

Mercy patted the spot beside her on the bed.  "Of course, Lil.  They're room for you right here."

Lily dragged her small legs up onto the twin-sized bed.  "Daddy and mommy are fighting again.  Did I do something?"  She cried softly into Mercy's nightgown. 

Her little sister, just five years old, thought this was her fault.  One day, when she was older she would understand that Mercy was the one that was the cause of the fights and the moves.  At nine, Mercy had already found a way to burn down her little sister's dollhouse, slash up multiple fabrics, and shift in front of a few strangers.  Mercy didn't know how it worked.  She was only nine.  To her, it was natural and she didn't know that she was different than other children. 

Her little sister with hair the color of chestnuts and glittering gray eyes was a beauty.  Everyone crooned and awed over her.  With Mercy, they all took caution.  Her sister was the epitome of childhood innocence and prettiness.  She could do no wrong.

"No, Lil, you are perfect."  Mercy whispered in the dark.

They continued to listen to the Baudelaire parents, falling asleep to the sound of their hushed voices in the kitchen.  One day, when she was older, she would make it up to them.

            ~†~

"What are you doing here?" Mercy shrieked. "Why did they have you?  You were supposed to be with our mother."  She whispered the last part, her voice beginning to quake.

From what her father mentioned, Lily was on a trip with Mrs. Baudelaire visiting family and getting away from the prying eyes lurking about.  She should have been safe, not here, where the very idea of being safe was nothing short of good laugh.

    Lily gave her a sad smile.  "You know as well as I do.  These people take what they want."  She paused, breathing in heavily.  "Someone found out.  I was so careful, Mercy.  After what happened with you, I was so terrified."

Mercy shook her head in confusion.  Her eyes stayed glued on her younger sister.

  "What do you mean?  Why would you need to be careful?"

Her sister glanced up at her with doe-like gray eyes.  Mercy scanned over the length of her sister, searching for any sign of abuse.  What she saw was worse.