Mercy: Outtakes

Starter Attempts

- Demi's POV -

I could smell the remnants of her morning coffee, bitter and pungent. A talk-show murmured on her living room television, a tell-tale sign that she was in too much of a rush this morning.

- Demi's POV - 

Her apartment was way too easy to break into. She was way too naive and careless. First with my heart. Now with her front door. I didn't even have to pick the lock; the door wasn't locked to begin with.

It was 10am on a Wednesday. Middle of the week. A work week. The home to the right of hers belonged to a high school music teacher and his barista fiance who attends night classes at the local community college. I knew they were both at work. The home to the left of hers belonged to a retired postman who became a widow last summer after his wife suffered a brain aneurysm. He was currently visiting his daughter out-of-state - Florida, to be exact. He wasn't due back for another four days.

- Demi's POV - 

According to your Instagram story, you are at work, slaving away over frothed milk and pumps of caramel syrup for the sake of pleasing sleep-deprived suburban soccer moms and teenagers who want trendy drinks to upload pictures of rather than actually ingest. You're going to come home smelling like coffee beans and sweat. You're going to want someone to bitch to about how entitled and rude and selfish the general public is. How you need a new job in a new city with a new house and a new car. How you want an entirely new life. Someone else's life.