Queen of Hearts

memories

the night air felt cool on mercys skin. she was laying flat on the curved, observatory roof, soft crackles of static were the only sounds that interrupted the natural hum of the city. 

her eyes were fixed on the moon, tracing each and every facet of it as if it was a jewel. her fingers made lazy circles in the air, her entire body was relaxed. 

her mind was empty. 

her dual colored eyes were full of thought. what went wrong tonight? how could it have gone better? what did she do wrong?

images of the knife floated over her eyes. her mindlessly toying hands now held a spark of fire between them, shaping and molding it into a replica of the knife, now in bright orange flames. the heat was comforting to her. 

the blade rotated in a lazy circle, sending an eery orange glow on the building around her. static let go of her upper half, mercy quickly adjusted herself so she was sitting up, the pull of the current became stronger around her now crossed legs. she stared down at the knife, a frown pulling at her lips. 

was it all worth it? she knew how unfair it was to keep secrets. but was it worth telling others?

the knife vanished from her palms. mercy buried her face in them, millions of questions and answers in her head. 

she needed to trust her team in order for all of this to work out. trust was essential. but she had none for them, so how oculd they trust her? was it really going to be easier this way? was it really going to be easier to have a filter of hatred and mistrust over everything. 

her hands moved to her hair, tugging at it painfully. she squeezed her eyes. 

why couldnt she just tell them? why did she have to be difficult? Imani knew, she never tried to use it against her. IMani was actively helping her. so why couldnt the others do the same? why had her mind convinced her that everyone except for Imani, was out to hurt her. 

she pulled hard on her hair, and sighed. her hands fell to her lap, and she looked up at the stars again. 

"help me. please." she said softly. 

her mind was in tatters. she was trying to heal. Imani had helped her talk to a therapist for the few months that Mercy had been in her care, they told Mercy to trust in people. but how could she?

she shut her eyes once more. pictures of the knife were ingrained on her lids. Mercy reached over to the back pack that was laying beside her, unzipped it and pulled out the knife. 

it was heavy. and yet familiar. as if a dozen times she had held it like this. 

she always projected this persona of sureness. of confidence. but now she was once again alone, full of questions and no answers. kept in the dark. just as it had always been. 

she pushed her fingertip into the point of the knife, the pain felt like nothing to her. it wasnt until it broke the surface of her skin, drawing blood, did a wave of pain shoot up her arm and into her heart. she sucked in a breath and set down the blade. 

the papercut healed as quick as it had appeared. mercy wiped the blood off her finger and looked back up. there was no one in the heavens to answer her prayers. they were all locked away.

"excuse me?" 

a cool, female voice sounded from behind Mercy, she jumped hard, and looked back, the blade in one hand ready to strike. 

instead she was looking at a slightly translucent women. 

her hair was jetblack, it fell down her shoulders stick straight. her outfit was an old toga, grey and frayed. she had a sheild on her back, and old, knowing, grey eyes.