Mercy's All That You Need

The dreams didn’t stop. If anything, they became more persistent, more intense. Each time Mercedes woke up she felt more exhausted than when she did when she went to sleep. Emotionally exhausted, at least. She didn’t know how her body was keeping up with such a hectic sleeping schedule. For the past three days, she’d been running on nothing but naps and whatever miniscule amount of sleep she managed to get during the day.

When she woke with a jarring jolt today, it was no different. Her shaking hands clutched the blanket as she sat bolt upright, sweat coating her brow, heart racing. She had to fight the tears that sprung to her eyes—something Mercy had gotten better at.

Her first instinct was to run for the door, as usual. If her mind had its way she’d be clear out of the house… it was just panic, panic, panic.

The dream itself wasn’t bad, per se, but Mercedes could never avoid the reaction she had when she woke up. The cold chill going down her spine was proof of that, and she would always wonder what the hell exactly was wrong with her.

In a moment of clarity, she glanced toward the alarm clock on her nightstand. The numbers 10:00 AM seemed to glare at her dauntingly, and with a tired sigh she heaved herself out of bed. While she may have gotten a little more sleep than she usually had, she still felt drained. Maybe it wasn’t from the lack of sleep. Maybe it was the Change progressing at a faster rate than she thought it was.

Such thoughts had her speeding up her pace, eager to get in the shower and concentrate on something, so long as it wasn’t on her probable death.

As much as she wanted it to, the hot shower did nothing to calm Mercy’s nerves. She still felt like a wreck, she still felt helpless. Yet she continued to meander through getting dressed and doing her morning chores, which usually only consisted of tidying up her room. When there was nothing left to do in there, she cautiously stepped out into the hallway. She was ready to get through the rest of the day—albeit in a dazed state, but she would get through it nonetheless.

Knowing that every other sane person was asleep, Mercedes always tried to be quiet in the mornings as not to wake anyone.

The only place that appealed to her at that moment was her new study. It was hers, her place where she could really relax and forget about everything. While her bedroom might have similar effects, it wasn’t to the same degree as her study. There were countless books in there for her to read, schoolwork to do, and plenty of ways to escape reality. In short, she really freaking loved her brother for putting the room together for her. He would never know exactly how much it meant to her.

Mercedes’ train of thought strayed when she was halfway to her study when she saw a door ajar. It was the first time she’d ever seen any of the doors in this hallway open. It was well known that everybody here enjoyed their privacy. She paused, wondering if she should close it. Sure, she should have just ignored it and went on her way to her study, but it was as if her feet had minds of their own. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped toward the door and drew in a deep breath.

Meanwhile, Mercy’s mind screamed at her to stop, that she was invading this person’s privacy—whether it be her brother’s or another of his family—even more by closing it herself. She tried haplessly to tell herself that simply because it was open, it just piqued her interest.

When she peeked through the door, just as she had her hand on the handle to close it once and for all Mercy was stunned nearly immobile when she saw Syn, sleeping with a grimace marring his otherwise handsome features. Hair tousled, he lay shirtless on top of his bed, stretched out in nothing but a pair of boxers.

It just had to be his room. Mercy’s mind was racing and reeling, her feet planted into the floor as she watched him turn onto his side, his eyes fluttering as he sighed. For a split second, Mercedes could have sworn that his gaze focused on her.

And then he rolled back over so his back faced her. With a small gasp she stepped back from the door, then belatedly remembered his… everybody’s… sensitive hearing. Sensitive everything.

For a split second, Mercy lingered in the hallway, and not knowing what else to do, she took off down the hallway. When she finally got to her study, she slid down the closed door and brought her knees to her chest. All she could do was numbly think about what had just happened, what she’d seen.

It wasn’t even the fact that she felt like a peeping tom, or that she’d seen Brian half naked. That was only half of what freaked her out. His bedroom… it was the exact same room she was always in… always, in her dreams.

Right down to the dark blue walls and the hardwood floors. Mercy could even describe the lamps on either side of his bed that she’d only gotten a glance at in reality, yet she’d seen them so many times in her dreams. She pulled her knees further to her chest, resting her head between her knees. She felt nauseated, and she knew it wasn’t from the change.

It wasn’t possible. What was she doing, freaking sleep walking all the time? It seemed like the only reasonable explanation, the only one anyone—especially herself—would buy. Mercy knew otherwise, however. She’d been dreaming. Not breaking into Syn’s room in her sleep à la Step Brothers, because she was sure she’d hear about it from him.

Hands curled into fists, Mercy had to resist the urge to beat her head against the door. She didn’t know how she felt about Brian. She didn’t know how Brian felt about her. And all she was doing was creeping around the house, looking into his freaking bedroom, doing schoolwork to distract herself from the mere thought of him. The way he went from craving her blood one day and then hating her guts the next, and the latest development of completely ignoring her existence had Mercy up the wall in confusion—so much so, that it hurt to think about it. Any of it.

The dreams. Her mother. The change.

It was all just too overwhelming. Mercedes had nobody to talk to about half of her problems, and Matt was always tight-lipped about her change. She had no idea if she would live past the age of eighteen or how the third stage of her change was going to go down. Would she grow fangs soon… crave blood, even? She had no freaking clue, and a lot of times knowledge was all Mercy had to rely on.

Now, she had nothing to count on, not a single fact to fall back on. Never before had emotions jumbled her up so much, left her wondering how she could ever be happy with the way her life was heading.

A couple of months ago, all Mercedes had to worry about was school and her mother. She’d wanted more freedom, as much as the thought intimidated her… but this much? Fearing for her life, almost getting herself killed on several occasions, and then wondering if she’ll even make it through her change? And then her confusing feelings for Brian… and Brian himself. It was all just one huge mess.

Reality came crashing down on Mercedes. The tears that she’d been fighting to hold back for so long finally fell, and they came in waves that had her shoulders wracking.

She remembered how Ariel had been her whole life. Ariel dictated what time she got up in the morning, what she did during the day, and what time she went to sleep. Day after day, it was always the exact same thing. The only joy Mercy could remember having was when she snuck out after dark to watch the stars—but here with her brother and his friends, she could do anything she wanted… well, as long as she didn’t endanger herself.

Remembering Ariel’s betrayal, Mercy had to stop herself from letting out an audible cry. All those year she’d thought her mother had loved her… and Ariel had only taken care of her because of something so shallow, so superficial. Here, Matt loved her. Mercedes knew that for a fact—otherwise, he wouldn’t even have bothered with her. He would’ve left her to die, like her mom surely would have.

She had friends in Val and the rest of the girls, and was getting closer to the guys every day… well, except for Syn. But it seemed like the guy changed his opinion on her at the flip of a coin, as much as it always hurt for her to admit it.

No, she would rather be here with her real family. Her Change, confusing men, death threats and all. It was worth it, in a sense. She was free from her mother.

If any of it ever got better, she promised herself—if she makes it through the change, she would never live in someone’s shadow like she had during her time spent with her mother again. All those years being sheltered left her weak, not nearly as experienced as a nearly eighteen year old should have been.

While she wasn’t exactly optimistic, and she have been freaking out about her dreams and the confusing guy that plagued her thoughts, she tried once again to be the optimistic Mercedes she once was.

So she wiped her tears and stood tall, her lips set in a determined line. She was going to get through this from now on. She’d keep her head up no matter what, no matter what kind of surprises could come her way.

After all, she might have to. Her life could very well depend on it.