"Mercury - Chapter 2" by Carly ´Lhena´ Silverton

Alanna awoke as the clock read 10:02, greeted by Jonathon’s smiling face. He moved a hand to brush back a lock of her wild hair. Smiling, she snuggled up to his bare chest and enjoyed the little time allowed alone with him. The time she spent with him was so precious; Jonathon was a constant memory of the caring brother she had once possessed.

He moved his lips close to her ear and whispered a soft thank you message for the other night. Smiling even bigger, she looked up at his angelic face. Glancing from her own weakened, pale skin to Jonathon’s rich caramel-graced covering, she felt a slight sigh of relief escape her lips.

She put her head closer to his heart and inhaled the savory scent of him. Even after nights of heavy drinking, she could still pick out the ever-increasing traces from the hard liquor. Her tone suddenly changed when she remembered last night’s actions with him. Taking on a motherly tone, Alanna asked Jonathon, “How you feeling?”

He replied nonchalantly, “Better than I would have been, if it weren’t for you.”

This made her giggle as she realized just how much he knew he needed her. Ever since graduating high school, his dreams and ambitions had been over taken by alcohol. His family had tried several times to convince him to stay in a clinic long enough to get over the addiction, but he always broke his promise.

* * * * *

From the very beginning of the addiction, he’d stay out the latest he could and come home a terribly drunken fish. He would come home in a drunken stupor, having forgotten his keys, and bang on the door until someone opened it. Eventually, his parents refused to get the door and Alanna would crawl out of bed to get it.

But in the end, Alanna would wait in the living room by the front door, drifting in and out of unconsciousness until he came home. After a few weeks, Jonathon had approached Alanna and understood what she was doing for him. So in trying to return the favor, he gave himself a curfew of 1:05. He rarely broke it, even coming home early at times.

Also, he had some feeling of self-preservation, because he never drove on drinking nights. Jonathon always made sure friends drove him and he would take the subway to the closest stop to their house. This was partly because he was always in a half-drunk stupor by the time he went out. Partly because he knew his sister watched him leave every time, and understood that she would see the action as reckless and a very unsettling idea. Yet, they both knew his drinking was always putting him at risk of death.

Finally his parents became fed up with his constant drunken or unconscious state. They sent him to a clinic strictly for failed addicts, hoping he would recover fully. Unfortunately, when Jonathon’s mind was flushed of the alcohol’s effects, it still hadn’t gotten rid of the craving. He thought he was better and escaped. However, the clinic didn’t explain he’d escaped, to neither Alanna nor her body’s parents, until several days had passed.

Alanna worried about him constantly for two weeks before receiving a letter giving her hope. He wrote to her about his current location, ambition for a new, clean life, and his current stage in finding that new life. Several months later, the feds contacted the parents, saying they’d found Jonathon in a shelter and were going to return him to the clinic.

Alanna’s body’s parents agreed it was for the best, yet Alanna herself greatly disagreed. She insisted he come back, stay a few months at the house before returning to the clinic. They ignored her and put him back in the clinic, and paid for it. He took off again, but this time there was no word from him for a long time.

It was a very rough six months, three weeks and five days before she heard from him. This time he sent another letter, with his own address. It had confirmed that he was fine, living in the same city as Alanna and had a home, or rather.

She soon was talking to him through letters, yet it failed. He never replied after the fifth one. She continued to send numerous others afterwards, but no reply came.

* * * * *

Awakening from her reverie, she heard Jonathon’s gentle voice ask her a question, “Alanna? You alright?”

She answered his question with a light nod, her eyes betraying the gesture. He took note of the blurry orbs. He lifted his arms around her slim body and made them sit up together.

“You want to take a nap?”

She shook her head again and replied, “No, I think I’ll just take a shower.”

He released her from his bear hug and whispered in her ear, “The bathroom is the next door down.” Her legs swung over the side and she quickly lifted herself up, but collapsed again. She had swayed dangerously on her feet and made sure to fall down on the soft mattress. She tried again, slower this time, but her head still swirled for a second. Concentrating on her feet, she walked out the door safely.

She slipped into the bathroom and put her hands on the sink, trying to steady herself. Her legs settled and left her able to concentrate. She looked up from the sink and found her stunned reflection looking back. She was a mess from head to toe. Her long chestnut braid was full of small leaves and clumps of dirt; a small dribble of blood dried on the left side of her forehead.

Helplessly angry with her hair, she pulled the tie out and quickly undid the long braid, letting her hair fall to a wavy mess. She turned on the water to scalding hot and stripped down, then glided into the shower. The water washed away the dirt and gunk. After realizing that half the dirt was falling from her hair, she dunked her head into the falling water. Her hands scrambled to get the shampoo bottle and squirt out a good-sized amount onto her hand, then later the stuff into her scalp.

She received a small surprise when she found a small bottle of cream rinse in the shower. It was the same bottle that had gone missing right after he’d left for the clinic. He must have mistaken it for his shampoo. She squeezed out a hefty sum of the milky white, slightly transparent liquid and let it work its magic on her knots. Then, she dragged out the rest of the major knots with a comb.

The water washed over her sore, stiff back and neck. Her night’s prowl had been rougher than normal and her body had not been prepared for the unexpected Shaping back to human form.

Her entire body felt like it would collapse if she didn’t sit soon, so she quickly turned off the cooling water and got out to sit on the sink counter. It took her several minutes to get off the counter before unwrapping her towel to dry off properly. Twice her legs gave out on her as she staggered to her brother’s room to get clean clothes, after realizing hers’ were shreds of useless cloth. She changed in the room as fast as her wobbly legs and off-balance would allow her; then held still for some seconds before she tried to get to the bathroom without hurting herself. a moment before she tottered to the bathroom to do her hair. She almost failed to keep herself up at one point, and had to grab hold of the railing, but made it there safely all in all.

While brushing her hair through with the only comb in his bathroom, Alanna looked at her enlivened reflection. Grungy, old sweats, a too large t-shirt and a mess of half wet, dark auburn hair. She quickly got fed up with the broken toothed comb and started running her hands through the wet mop. She gave up and used a towel to soak up the excess water. Shaking it free, she let it fly in an exotic mess, framing her face. She flew down the stairs, her footsteps barely a whisper and walked into the kitchen to find Jonathon with his back turned to her, cooking bacon over the electric stove.

She crept up behind him and placed her hands over his eyes. He sighed, his shoulders falling. He put down the wooden spoon and placed his hands over Alanna’s and took hers off his face. He spun around, momentarily let go of her hands (so he didn’t pull her around with him). She smiled mischievously at him before he gruffly pulled her into a bear hug. Her head came to his chest, so when he squeezed harder, her lower back curled towards him and she compressed herself to him. All his drinking had not yet destroyed his nineteen-year-old’s body of physical, male perfection; so she was next to rock-hard muscle.

He released her a second later and took a strand of her hair in his hand and ran over it with his fingers.

“You’ve grown your hair out since the last time I saw you.” Jonathon smiled down on her blushing face. Alanna had always known he’d liked her hair long.

Suddenly, the sound of sizzling bacon was very loud in their ears and Jonathon spun around and started trying to move it around. Alanna giggled and went to get plates. Jonathon pointed to a cupboard by the sink and she found two chipped, but clean plates. The rest were in the sink, weeks-worth of food still stuck to the china.

Alanna made a face at Jonathon for his nasty living habits and placed the plates on the counter by the stove. He’d finished with the bacon and took one look at the greasy pan and decided to look for another. Rummaging through the cabinets, he finally found a fry pan. Placing in on the heat, Alanna fried four eggs, two for each of them. She slid the eggs onto the plates and gave each of them a few pieces of cooling bacon from the paper towels. The toast popped up suddenly and Jonathon grabbed it, to place on the plate edges. They carried their food to the kitchen table, where Jonathon had set out some orange juice and utensils.

They ate their breakfast in moderate silence, except for the clanking of their forks and slurps of juice. They finished the meal quickly, then started working on the dishes in the sink. Alanna’s pushiness to start with their breakfast plates won and then they worked through the mess of decaying, stuck-on food from the other dishes. Jonathon’s kitchen didn’t house a dishwasher, so they had to do things by hand.

Luckily, he had a sponge and drying rack. So, they both worked on the dishes, while Jonathon scrubbed the pans with hot, soapy water and Alanna rinsed and dried them, then would place the pans and utensils on the rack. They were half way done, when Alanna caught a glimpse of Jonathon swaying on his feet. Alanna had to support him, as he toppled onto her and nearly crushed her with his weight.

“You alright?”

“Fine, just a headache. That’s all.” Jonathon responded, too fast for Alanna to really believe him and insisted he lie down.

“People with headaches don’t almost fall over,” Alanna snapped back. Jonathon smirked at her and allowed her to bring him to the couch and bring him a couple of Advil before making him lie down and try to sleep. He drifted off fast, leaving Alanna to finish the dishes.

For the next half hour, she worked to scrub the grime off the plates. When she was done, her curiosity was allowed to diminish when she realized she could get the keys to the house and explore the rental. Running up the stairs, she grabbed the five keys and slipped down the railing to the bottom floor. She turned left at the stairs and tried three keys before she got the door unlocked. Peering in, Alanna found it difficult to see for a minute before her eyes refocused in the dim light.

She felt around the side to find a light switch, but it flickered out shortly after she switched it on. She found a flashlight under the kitchen sink and, then headed back to explore from the door. It was well-equipped for parties, complete with a built-in bar, a giant pool table, and one of the largest wood chairs and table sets Alanna had seen in centuries. The windows, opposite the bar, were covered in shades and black sheets. The room smelled of rotting fruit and spilled alcohol, leaving her woozy and forcing her to retreat. When her senses recovered, she stepped back inside and the first thing she did was uncover the windows.

She noticed a door to the left and went to investigate. Opening the sliding doors, she found a washer and dryer. Well there’s no point in trying to wash those old sweats, they’re just shreds now, Alanna remembered.

Light filled the room almost completely, reminding Alanna of the over whelming stench her nose had had to endure these past minutes. She opened the windows, on the adjacent wall from the sliding door mirroring the bar, then flew out of the room. She went back to the kitchen and grabbed a bucket, several rags, soap and wood finish. Then, Alanna hurriedly swept back into the room and started on the bar.

The overwhelming feeling to clean had taken over and Alanna had forced herself into a frenzy in seconds after grabbing the necessary tools for the job. There was a full array of alcohols, most of which were half empty or broken topped. The few, intact bottles were cheap booze, covered in spider webs and egg sacks. She grabbed them off the shelf, and placed them in the bucket, then took a wet rag to the bar. Wiping down the shelf and tabletop of the bar, Alanna soon found herself sneezing from the disturbed dust. I should get out of this room and let my nose clear before I try putting on the wood finish, Alanna’s mind guessed while a sneeze shook her entire body.

Alanna picked up the bucket full of old bottles, and left the room. She dumped the bottles into the trashcan outside the house, then went upstairs to the bathroom. She had a feeling the cleaning supplies for the bathroom were under the sink in the room, like it was in her body’s parent’s house. So she looked and found the scrub brush for the toilet, along with the cleaner for the toilet and paper towels. She started with the toilet bowl, then used the paper towels and a little water to wipe down the sink, getting the old, dried toothpaste off the sink bowl. After finally finishing the bathroom Alanna was exhausted and ready to fall asleep.

However, she suddenly remembered her promise to call her body’s parents and turned out of the bathroom. Alanna headed towards the stairwell, when her head popped up and glanced up at the door, opposite the other wall of the hall. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now that the door was an obvious item in the house, a memory flooded back to her, a memory that caused Alanna a good deal of grief.

Alanna woke from the nightmarish memory and a wave of mental exhaustion hit her. Her body had already been tired and she fell to her knees and crumpled into a ball as she quietly sobbed, falling asleep in minutes of the draining, racking cries. The pain crashed down on her as she woke up a few minutes later and dragged her body to the bed, where she fell asleep in the still partly warm covers.

The next time she awoke was from hearing a crash downstairs. She slipped out of the bed, red-eyed and puffy-cheeked, then quickly searched for any sort of weapon. Looking under the bed, she grabbed an aluminum bat. She slinked past the bedroom door and placed her back flat against the adjacent wall. The door was hidden from the view, by the wall.

Skidding to the edge of the wall, inches before the stairwell, she poked her head out and looked. Her eyes immediately tuned in on the crumpled form on the floor, surrounded by the broken, glass vase, from the coffee table. She ran down the stairs three at a time, tripping and catching herself before she got to him. Grabbing his body and turning him to face her, she looked him over. A sliver of glass was in his palm, which propelled her to swallow her fear of blood and run to the kitchen, grab a wet rag and dash back to him.

She yanked out the sliver and put pressure on the wound. The bleeding took a long time to slow down and eventually stop. By the time the bleeding had slowed, Jonathon had woken and was grumbling in pain. She shushed him and went for the emergency kit, bandaged his hand and pulled him up to hold him in her arms.

“Hey, you okay?” she whispered, her mouth centimeters from his ear.

“Fine, except for the stinging pain in my hand. How about you?” she smiled at him and replied, “What happened?”

She laughed when she analyzed his response, and figured him to still be a big baby about pain.

“Well I guess that makes two of us that hasn’t a clue,” he answered snidely.

Then they both fell silent as they recalled Jonathon used to sleep walk and must still have the habit. But that still didn’t explain the rest. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again!” Alanna declared. He looked away from the locked stare they had held, but his glare pushed her on.

“Do you really think you can take care of yourself like this? I mean look around: the dishes only got done because I was here and I bet that the party room would still be a pigsty if I hadn’t come along and that other bedroom-” Alanna silenced herself. Not only had she just told Jonathon about her opening a locked door, but also she‘d let the big cat out of the bag. His face went from shock to shame then anguish in seconds as he realized she now knew his darkest secrets. Her knees gave and she crumbled to the ground, sobs tearing at her voice and tears screwing with her vision.