ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ {ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ}

I Wish Things Were Different

{Mercy's POV}

   I sat before my father at the dinner table. His face had become older and his hair showed more signs of age. He was writing on a piece of paper, and his brows were furrowed with concentration.

    I looked down to my hands and wrists. They weren't confined by chains like they were in my last memory.
    I looked up.
    "Do you think she will agree?" my voice asked.
     My father took several moments to answer, and didn't look up from his writing when he did.
    "I think Mary will see things my way..."
     I nodded my head.
     I had almost completely forgotten about Mary, the woman Vincent mentioned to me.
      I looked down and continued to stare at my discolored wrists.
     The last time a memory resurfaced my voice was a higher pitch, and my hands were frail. As I sat before my father my voice was older and my hands were stronger. I couldn't figure out if much time had passed, or if the device caused me to mature quicker.
      Regardless, my hands were free.
      I looked to the door.
Elise, I pleaded within my own body, you're free... Run.
      My body stayed put, and my attention was aimed at my father once again.
     "Are you sure?" I asked which resulted in a distracted sigh.
     "Once again, I think she will see things my way... I don't understand why she wouldn't after what happened to her sister."
      Her sister?
     "I see," I said.
     "I know you haven't seen your Aunt Mary in nearly a decade, but I'm almost certain she'll be willing to help us with the mission," my father said without glancing up from his writing. "I'm a couple weeks shy from being King of the Underground.. If I've been able to persuade an entire underground community to follow me to the end I'm sure I can convince a stubborn relative to house you for a couple years."
       His words turned over and over in my head.
     Aunt Mary?
      My vision was quickly filled with several fast paced memories.
      My mother opening the door to reveal a taller blond haired woman with green eyes.
      The woman crouching down to eye level with me and smiling excitedly.
      The woman helping my mother in the kitchen while my father played chess at the table and I watched so I could learn.
      That must have been the last time I'd seen my Aunt Mary.