Time seemed to quicken after their deaths. A week had passed after their funeral where I roamed the halls of the house, barely noticing the hours tick by until I was ushered into the dining room to eat. Every room was empty and joy no longer lingered in any of the rooms. What was brightly lit was now dulled by sorrow and the veil that was to remain draped over my face while I mourned. Then the second Sunday came and I cried as I was supposed to, ensuring that my handkerchief was seen by all. The priest at the head of the chapel stared at me with disgusting pity even when I left the chapel to return to my barren home.
People began their march to speak to me once it was appropriate. Words of sympathy flitted into one ear and left the other. Their lips told lies to me that only their eyes revealed. Such cold, cold eyes stared into mine. Not even the dark veil that covered my face could protect me from their cruel, perfumed words.
My hands had shaken when his younger brother arrived in the place of his ailing father and sat in front of me. He did not seem sad for me, he did not pity me. His words did not impact me like the others. They were not flowery. Straight to the point and piercing; he told me that my life was in chaos. My home would be taken back by my husband's family. The business which was not fully inherited by Edmond would be given to his brother instead. The dowry that had existed once was stolen by my father and his greedy fingers. Nothing could be given to me and I would be kicked out onto the dirty streets of London as a fallen noble with only a title and no family or money.
The only pity he offered was saying to get remarried as soon as possible.
I had scoffed at that. Getting remarried so soon would ruin me. My family had been my life. It was far too soon for me to handle. Attempting to get married would also ruin my image in society. I was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Nothing could stop this spiral of destruction that my life has become. Then a letter from my lovely friend Rachel had arrived.
The handwriting was shaky, but still familiar. She had been bed ridden almost immediately after I had left their home to handle my family's funeral preparations. The Swanns were struggling emotionally even though Weatherby was facing luck in his trade. Rachel, despite all of this, invited me once more into their home. I could not turn down the offer.
Now, here I stood at Rachel's bedside. She was so very pale and her rich honey hair had grown brittle. The shadows cast by the candles exaggerated her shallow cheeks and sunken eyes. My friend's body had become a shadow of its former self but her eyes were still strong. Her thinned hand grabbed my own.
"Mercy," she smiled. "You look so sad."
I blinked. Sadness had tainted every inch of my life since I had been born. What I thought would last forever only lasted a mere moment. Even when I think back, I know that I only fooled myself. Nothing ever lasts. Happiness is something I do not think I will ever have. It is not for those who work for it but for those who are lucky enough for it.
I felt her hand on my face, gently cupping it. I had knelt down to the ground at some point and now could only see Rachel through blurred vision. Her other hand came up to wipe away some tears that had escaped. I felt my lip quiver. My mouth moved but I barely trusted my voice so I remained silent as I sobbed. Rachel held my face tenderly in her thin, thin hands. Smiling comfortingly and whispering small words.
Everything felt as though it were coming apart around me as though I were the problem in this game called life. Even with Rachel's comforts it could only last so long. It would only last moments until she was next. I could feel it and it terrified me knowing that my friend-my sister-was so close to simply leaving me. More tears were beginning to well as I kept thinking of her simply vanishing. I clutched tightly onto her arm, hoping that it would never disappear, cherishing in the warmth it gave off.
"Do not leave me Rachel," I begged quietly, my voice weak and strained from crying.
She smiled bitterly, "Everyone must leave at some point, Mercy."
I bit my lip, not wanting to submit to her wisdom. "Some too soon," I whispered softly. Rachel looked at me sympathetically then her eyes hardened. Small, frail hands released my face and instead grasped my hands.
"Will you please watch after my family in my place, Mercy?"
The sudden change in topic startled me slightly but I knew what my response should be. I nodded my head.
"Please, make sure Elizabeth grows up well," Rachel smiled. "Help Weatherby guide her. You know he means well even if he can be a bit naive."
My head bowed again, "I promise."
She smiled weakly at that. A cough rose up to her lips and I saw the blood sprinkle her lips. More tears welled at the sight but I held them back. I only smiled, my hands deftly using my mourning handkerchief to wipe away the blood trying to stain her lips.
She always did like the sunshine. I bitterly smiled at the clouds drifting peacefully through the sky. I remember Rachel running through the field by my home with Elizabeth. They were so lively, so happy. It was so far away now and it only became farther with the time and sadness that plagued my life.
I felt the tiny hand grip my hand tighter. Bending down, I gently swept away little Elizabeth's tears. Her lip quivered gently. She was only eleven and her mother was taken from her. A lullaby of mourning began to softly pass my lips. Hoping to comfort her in whatever way I could, even if I could not do the same for myself.
The quiet shuffle of feet on grass made me turn my attention from the sobbing child to the march. The dark wood casket was carted towards the grave. The men followed behind quietly, but there was only one that truly grabbed my attention.
He maintained composure even as tears silently fell down his cheeks. His lips twitched and his jaw clenched as he held back his emotions. When she was to be placed into her grave, he kissed the wood that covered her body. A few tears fell as he allowed his loving wife to be sent into the earth. Once he was permitted, Weatherby left his wife's side to walk quickly towards me and Elizabeth. Grasping the tiny child in his arms as they both sobbed. Elizabeth could not speak and only screamed into the man's shoulder. I covered my mouth with my handkerchief, unwilling to begin crying once more.
The women around us give little coos or pitying stares. The want to yell at them for treating this as something adorable made anger rise up in my chest. My teeth clenched behind my handkerchief and my tongue was held. Rachel would not want an argument.
The sun was slowly setting when the daughter and father finally managed to stand. Their eyes were red ringed and hollow. Emotion still hung in the air like a thick fog. It made their steps heavy when they began their journey towards our carriage. I quickly joined them, making sure to stand by Elizabeth's side. Her tiny hand probed at my own. I opened it to allow her to hold onto me. A small sniffle occasionally broke the silence.
I felt nothing could lighten this dark, dreary day; much less this dark, dreary lifetime I live in.
"Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me," a young quiet voice sung from the end of the ship. "We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack. Drink up-"
She was cut off and my head quickly turned to check up on her. A sailor spoke to her, his finger wagging as he talked at her about suspicions and sailors' luck. My hand went to fiddle with the black and gold ring settled above my wedding band. Several unfond memories sprung to mind. The sting of pain never quite went away despite almost a year passing. Almost a year and I was headed to a new home with the Swanns'.
I focused on little Elizabeth again and noticed the young Lieutenant Norrington had approached the odd group. My eyebrows furrowed at that. The young man had been consistently chatting up Weatherby. Of course they were to have frequent contact considering both of their positions but Norrington was being a touch too close. A touch too friendly.
Weatherby walked by me to approach the group. Their idle chattering with his daughter about pirates had finally reached his ear. His consistent coddling would only draw her further away. Too much restriction would allow for too little growth and too much rebellion. This did not mean he listened though.
"Look! A boy! There's a boy in the water!"
I rushed over to Elizabeth who was leaning on the railing. Grabbing her shoulders to ensure none of the gathering crew got too close to her. She looked up to me and pointed out a small boy drifting on a slab of wood in the pitch black water. Confusion seemed to echo through the crew as the Lieutenant yelled at them to go and fetch the lad. Where had he come from? I looked away from the men going to retrieve the boy and saw orange beginning to emerge from the fog.
Elizabeth slipped away from my grasp to go look at the boy but I was rooted in my spot. A sailor jumped on the rigging to get a clearer look. "Mary, mother of God," his voice shook.
My heart quickened. A thumping echoed through my body as everything else seemed to vanish from view. Bright orange flames licked at the charred wood of the decimated ship. The air became thick with smoke and I was launched back in time to that moment a year ago. Waiting on that quiet dock for my little boy and husband. Oh my little boy, my sunshine.
Elizabeth had left my side and I snapped out of my head to follow her. She leaned over the young man, looking at something in her hands.
"Elizabeth?"
She snapped around to look at me. The small object hidden behind her. I quirked my eyebrow and opened my mouth to question her on it only for Lieutenant Norrington to appear.
"Did he speak?"
"His name is Will Turner - that's all I found out," Elizabeth responded rather quickly.
"Very good," Lieutenant said before ordering some of his soldiers to take the young boy-William-below deck.
I watched them take him. My heart aching when his young features reminded me of my own child. Perhaps I could help him as well? Teach him as I am teaching Elizabeth? I felt a tear silently trail down my cheek and wiped it away. He is not my child, I should not impose… but if he requires it…
I shook my head, a matter to worry about another time. Finding Elizabeth closer to the back of the ship, looking down at something in her hands. Quietly, I walked up the steps to glance at what she had taken from William.
There it was, a golden medallion with Aztec features on it. A skull was set in the middle grinning ominously at us. An all too familiar coin on this dreadful day.
"Elizabeth, what do you have?" I questioned with a tight jaw. My confusion, sorrow, and anger kept at bay.
She gasped when she whipped around to look at me and then looked back at something in the fog. I narrowed my eyes at her, then at the fog but found nothing. The child looked down guiltily.
"I found it on Will," she said, "but he's not a pirate!"
"A boy that young would not be a pirate," I responded gently.
She nodded.
"Just do not let the Lieutenant or your father see it… it's… bad luck."
Elizabeth nodded once more, quickly hiding it in the pocket of her dress. I put my hands gently on her shoulders. There was a long journey ahead of us. Hopefully, that coin would not curse us to a different destination beneath these waves.
Although, I am not sure if I would be unhappy if it did.
A/N:
Sometimes I feel bad for my character, but what comes in sorrow is equaled in happiness. Speaking of sorrow I am now three chapters behind on writing this. Whoops. Oh! And I finally got to the movie! Whoohoo!
DIB: Hi DIB! Thank you for the compliment. Yeah, I have a small issue with grounding my writing in a single point of view on occasions. I intended for this to be first person, but Mercy's day dreaming/observations goes into third person perspective sometimes. I will do my best to make it more clear. Please tell me if you still have this issue on this chapter because I would understand if the first whole flashback story telling she does is confusing.
Thanks for reading! Per the usual critiques are welcomed :)