Beneath the Water

by Melinda Craig

  For the first time, I noticed I was sitting on the opening that lay in the cave, my lower half submerged in water. I tested my tail, noticing its strength. It moved quickly. I caught movement from the ladder through the corner of my eye; it’s rope swaying ever so slightly. I looked up to see a man in a wetsuit climbing down. He held a long needle filled with green liquid. A chill ran through me.

  I was awake now, and he wanted to put me back to sleep. I pushed myself off the ledge, further into the water. Making sure my gaze never moved from his. We did a strange dance, him stepping closer and me stepping back and then repeating it. He lowered himself to the water — both of us circling the other.

  I dove. I let the water rush over me, and for a frantic moment I was afraid to breathe, and then I opened my eyes and let it happen. To my relief, air filled my lungs. I reached up and felt several ridges on my neck. Were those gills?

  Movement in the water, I felt it. The man in the wetsuit was far too close. I swam further and found another welcome surprise. I could move fast, but to my horror, so could he. That wasn’t normal, was it? Who was I kidding, none of this was.

  I began to tire. I stopped swimming and let my pursuer get close. Perfect, he was right where I wanted him. I hit him as hard as I could. The spikes on my fin ripped through his suit, exposing bare flesh and a trickling of blood floated around us.

  We circled each other. Him still holding the long syringe. I attempted a quick escape, but he swiftly followed. Just when I thought I was losing him, he slowed and pulled off his hood, exposing his neck and meeting my eyes. Gills, he had gills too. But, where was his tail? I heard his voice in my head.

  “Myra, you really should drink your tea.”

  I reached for my head to cover my ears, but his voice wouldn’t leave. We were somehow linked. My surprise gave him an advantage, he had gotten closer, too close, and now circled me.

  I whipped my tail forward before realizing my folly, I had landed my mark but so had he. Green liquid dripped and floated from my tail, his syringe wedged deep in between my scales.

  My energy depleted, I could barely gather enough strength to swim, let alone move quickly. The fog started to grow, wrapping its haze around my senses and even my hate at this man, would not stay in front of my mind.

  I had to cling onto it, but it was all drifting away, back to the white room. I felt his hands guiding me, swimming me back towards the cave. In and out the fog came, bogging my thoughts. His voice still in my head, talked to me like before…as though we had never left the white room and his psychiatrist chair.

  Those cruel features looked triumphantly at me, and I knew it was too late. I was drifting back to that place. The one that should be real but wasn’t, the one that took my reality away.

  “Look at you. Thought I lost you for a minute, Myra.”

  I blinked and turned my head. White walls, one window, and one door. I was back, but had I ever really left? Confusion muddled my thoughts, and I felt unsure of everything and everyone except for one thing. My loss, my daughter who was gone and would never return. I knew that to be real.

  Rescue

  The psychiatrist began to speak but was cut off. A scream broke through the room, and I had to cover my ears. I doubled over in pain, trying to block out the noise.

  My eardrums pounded as the scream continued to pulse through my head. I silently begged for the pain to subside and was grateful when I lost consciousness to the world around me.

  I drifted, sinking below, and then I saw her. It was the little girl with curls and a pixie-like appearance, the one that reminded me so much of my Lauren.

  “Are we too late? Look at her! She’s bleeding.” She said.

  “Hush.” A woman spoke.

  A soothing voice replaced the pain that was inside my head.

  “You’ll frighten her darling. Enough. Help me get the lost one to safety before he wakes.”

  I felt a current of wind and water carry me. It was as though I was flying in my sleep, a tremendous race through the clouds. All movement slowed and rocked gently around me. The wind disappeared, and I was again floating, encircled by water.

  Slowly I lifted my eyes and stared at a face that held kindness and concern. A woman peered down at me. I heard her voice in my head, “there is hope.” She said.

  I glanced down and found, once again, I had a tail. In front of me was the mermaid with the kind face. Was that what I was too? No matter how long I blinked or shook my head, the image was still there. I was either truly insane or would have to come to terms with all of this being real.

  I thought I was human. Yet, here I was in this strange dream-like reality with a tail as beautiful and dangerous as all the folklore I’d ever read. It took all my effort to keep my eyes open and not drift away. A voice filled my head once more.

  “Hello, my lost one. All will be overwhelming at first, but soon, you’ll understand.”

  The mermaid’s voice continued to calm my mind. I opened my eyes to look at her again. Golden hair floated behind her sharp features and journeyed around her waist. The strands were lovely but had a tentacle appearance and moved with a mind of their own. They glowed with a yellow current of light that bounced through each hair. A few of the strands wrapped behind her back, the effect was a never-ending amount of golden light. Her tail was twice as long as mine with scales a deep hue of purple and covered in a diamond sheen. A river of silver wrapped itself around the purple scales and thinned to a barely-there whisper, showing a hint of sparkle on her powerful fin.

  “Rest now, Myra. When you awake again, I shall take you to see your daughter.”

  Did she say she’d take me to see my Lauren? Could this be a mental state of loss, a break, or dare I hope? A young mermaid swam up to me and placed her hand on my cheek. She smiled before speaking.

  “Don’t be sad. My mother will make you better just like she did your daughter.”

  Perhaps grief was more than a mother’s mind, and heart could handle. Perhaps this was all a strange dream. If so, I didn’t want to wake up. I began to drift back to sleep.

  In this world, my Lauren was still alive, and my loss was not a reality. In this world all other logic was nonexistent. I nodded to the little girl and her beautiful mother before closing my eyes. I’ll take this world.

  If you’d like to find out where Myra’s journey takes her next, download her next story below:

  Escaping the Tide