Fan Fiction ❯ Mercurious Tells All ❯ Mercurious ( Chapter 1 )

I haven't been able to decide yet whether my parents are the cruelest bastards alive, or if they're just absolutely clue-less as to the world around them. A stranger to my situation would think it a harsh thing to say even if founded in some legitimate evidence, but they don't understand. No one understands what it's like to have parents who named you Mercurious.

But that's not the half of it, or precisely it is the half of it, they named my twin sister Mercury. Mercurious and Mercury; the twins with parents from hell.

At least her name's a little better; she's got a decent metal and a planet. Me, I'm Mer-Curious. I'm a curious Mer-Man! I'm a man with the tail of a fish that swims around all day inspecting the coral! As if the name itself wasn't as humiliating and degrading and good enough material for bullies across the entire Western hemisphere, the nickname was worse. In third grade I had the not-so-bright idea to incorporate a nickname. After a long three-day weekend of writing out names and signatures and spellings I finally came up with a name that I thought was perfect.

Merc.

It was brief, stunning, it could be the name of the newest police drama on television. I swaggered into school bright and early that sunny autumn morning. My head was held high and my feet were light. I was invincible to the world. When the first taunting bully reared his ugly head, I simply ignored him.

"I'm not Mercurious any more," I'd said proudly. I paused for dramatic effect but continued on again before someone could say something and break the power of attention I had gained. "I'm Merc now."

A silence had come over the entire playground. Or at least the world seemed silent to my ears. The moments ticked by, but they felt like decades to me as I waited for the response. Would they pat me on the back and tell me I was cool? Would they accept it? Would they finally see the person behind the name?

"Murky," the bully said, smiling and looking around to the others who had gathered. "I kinda like it. Murky, it suits you."

Murky?

From that day forward, I was known as Murky. I wasn't a Mer-Man now, but something that is dirty and unclear and disgusting. I was muddy water. I was the little blue green midget who rode in a trash can tied to a buggy and who tried time and time again to steal all the colors from Rainbow land. I was a midget wearing a metal hat, who always got screwed over by his big lug of a partner Lurky and given lectures to by some hippie-child named Rainbow.

Of course, the name stuck. And, of course, I happened to live in one of those small towns where you meet someone when you're four and you're stuck with them whether you like it or not until your forty. Grade school, middle school, high school: it was the same thing everyday of my life.

But I can't complain too much, they named my little sister Mercy. She's only four now; not old enough to realize the pain and anguish her name will cause her in the future. Neither do my parents; they're oblivious to it all. What do you expect though. Their names are Mary and Jerry.