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alondra. (stint) wrote in dunwichgame,

tw: anxiety from past trauma and abuse
Mercy closed her eyes and squeezed them tight, hoping that it was just a dream. A really bad dream. The sounds of the people around her didn't fade, nor did the shaking feeling in her chest as she breathed in and out. "Eddie," she whispered, her eyes opening to find him looking at her, "you're just going to come back to the fucking boats, aren't you?"

She dropped her eyes so that she could try to smile, her cheeks and eyes still watery and red. "I care about you. But not enough to stand by while you come back to this place that just rots you. I think I need to call Richie," she told him. "Because I don't think that I can actually help you."

"Eddie, I don't want you to be unhappy," Mercy cried. "I want you to be happy, but whatever you found in there, it's not real. It's like..." She held her hands up at her chest, trying to explain what she felt, but it was hard. It was hard to tell him that he was infatuated with something that wasn't good for him. "I think you're under some kind of spell," she finally managed to blurt out, her hands reaching for his shoulders. "It's like it knows that you're going to keep coming back. And I wanted to go back, too, because I miss my sisters, Eddie. I miss them, and seeing us all together laughing and telling stories with our moms there, and our dad, well, it just felt good."

"But Amelia is dead, Eddie. That's how I know that tunnel lies. Because if Amelia is alive in there, it's not real. Nothing that it showed me was real, and it was never going to be."