Quicksilver

The quivering last rays of day slowly settled beneath the heavy mask of night. Tiny gems studded the black fabric and flashed their sparkling teeth at the unknowing beings beneath. The trees and shrubs that had been the source of much laughter and fun during at noon had become the dark skeletons of a young child's nightmare.
Melissa sat quietly by the window of the hotel attic, silently watching the traffic and busy tourists outside. Now there was almost no life outside. Sighing, she left her sanctuary went to the lobby.
She liked sitting there too, observing but not speaking. There was an old abandoned sofa near the entrance, which she sat on every day, fingering loose strands of colorless thread.
There were trickles people who entered the lobby, including an elderly couple, a sour young man, and a large family of nine. She wasn't surprised- the beaches of Miami attracted lots of attention from all over, and it was even a family tradition for her when she was younger. Every year in the wintertime, they'd journey down from frigid New Hampshire and spend a week or two tanning and enjoying themselves. She smiled at the nostalgic memories. Then, she saw it. Him. He entered the hotel looking for someone, and quickly spotted her- one of the seven children from that larger family that checked in earlier.
He was with... another... girl. She couldn't believe it. After all they had gone through, after all of those promises. She lunged at him with all of her strength, clawing at his beautiful face and pulling at his hair.
“How could you? How could you just... just... leave me?” She sobbed at him. But her attack was completely ignored, and he left the hotel holding that other girl's hand.
She crumpled at the counter, feeling dry sobs still echoing in her chest.
She was distracted by the tinkling door chime- did he feel guilty about the whole thing?

No. Instead, a new jolt of anguish slammed into her. Another family; two kids, one mother, and one father. They were the perfect symbol of a happy life. The smiling woman flashed a happy grin at the front desk worker and expertly filled out the forms provided in record time. Then, she grabbed the keys to room 309 and walked off with her son, daughter, and husband.
Melissa knew she had to do it. Now, or never. She followed them upstairs, gliding quietly behind. When they entered the room and closed the door, she stood and waited. Perhaps they would notice the girl waiting outside to be let in. Perhaps they would sense her need of company. Perhaps they would let her in.
Hours passed, and nothing happened. Finally, Melissa heard the resounding clicks of the lamps, and a few minutes later, a chorus of snores. They were asleep.
So they hadn't sensed her. They hadn't noticed. She would have to do this alone. She ignored the cumbersome locked door and stepped into the room, into a moonlit, gloomy scene.

First, she stopped at Sally's bed. The nine-year-old was frowning in her dreams, mumbling about a lost stuffed animal. Melissa remembered it- the pink elephant she had won for Sally at a carnival.

The little girl immediately fell in love with it, refusing to part with the dilapidated toy three years later. Her mom secretly bundled the toy in a sweater and landed it in the laundry basket, only to realize some time later that it was destroyed somewhere in the process. When she opened the washer door, she was greeted by a puddle of soggy cotton and pink fur among the pieces of clothing. To this day, Sally was convinced that it was the bogeyman.

Softly, Melissa's white hands glided along Sally's tired figure, smoothed out her raven-black hair, and tucked the covers under her chin. The child had calmed, and grew placid in her sleep. She moved on.

Aaron, a year younger than Sally, was peaceful in his sleep, lying on his stomach and the source of the loudest snoring.

. With every breath, his fluffy hair puffed up. He was usually such a hyper, noisy pest. Once, he added green dye to her shampoo, and her hair turned a vomit color for weeks. He got a good spanking for that. Melissa felt her eyes begin to fog up again, and directed her attention to the sleeping baby to try and regain her composure.

The baby was the only member she didn't have many memories of. She remembered the woman being pot-belied with him, and remembered her sneaking chocolate snacks in the middle of the night, all the while chuckling about how fat she would become.

After enough deep breaths, she moved to the large figure of a sleeping man. She quickly determined that he was crying from small shudders in his body. Shards of quicksilver dotted his cheeks, and Melissa wiped them away with a single stroke of her finger. She wiped her hand on his hair, whispering in his ear.

“It's okay, Daddy. It's okay.”

Those five words she had uttered just months ago. That night. The words weren't calming when they left her lips that day before the party. They were biting spears thrust at him. She felt her own eyes water, the third time that evening, and let the quicksilver slide out, tracing shiny paths down her face. She gazed longingly at her father, letting the silvery liquid dapple the stiff sheets, softening them. His choking spasms slowed, and in his sleep, he murmured one word. “Melissa?”

She paced over to the last stop, the last bed.

The bed was empty.

Confused, she swiveled on her heel. There was a figure sitting in front of the open window, watching the sliver of a moon.

“Why?” It was a haunting sound, devoid of any happiness she had heard in the lobby.

“Why,” her mom repeated, “did you leave that day? Didn't you know he was drunk? God Melissa! Why are you so stupid? We were taking a vacation in this hotel! Couldn't you have gone to a party any other time?” The flowing sentences left those once-smiling lips like dripping tears. They were her mom's way of crying. Silver words, encircling her.

She couldn't resist. Slowly, she advanced upon the sad woman. Although she knew there was no way her mom could see her, she walked into sightline and stood next to her. On the windowsill sat a small dressing mirror. She had an idea. She reached out, taking the woman's warm hands in her frozen ones. Quietly, she guided, them to the mirror.

The woman looked in and let out a small breath. In that mirror was her- the disheveled lady whose wrinkles were accented by the moonlight, and a white person. She wore a light red dress and light makeup. The person smiled slightly and kissed her lightly.
Melissa knew that she couldn't stay in the hotel. She belonged somewhere else, not among the living anymore. She had denied herself that for so long, but now her task was finished. She could see the light emanating down from the sky, and she flew into it, finally rid of such a burden. She enveloped herself in that ray, and looked for the last time at the calm family. They knew it was okay.

Sally and Aaron awoke at the same time. “Mom, Melissa was here!”
Smiling, their mom replied, “I know.” In the shimmering quicksilver mirror, she saw only herself. “I know.”