Merfolks ⚢

Chapter 2 Perspectives

KAYLOR

"You can explore the city and visit festivals and events, just be wary of danger." Mr. Ainsley said during our breakfast the next day. "Do your thing. Do street photography. Then present me your works tonight before dinner and I'll teach you what you need to improve and decide whose work is better in this round."

We went our own ways and I walked alone, seeing familiar faces and places that never changed. Even in the span of 12 years, Puerto Princesa was still the same. The pain from my old wound burst its lingering pain that never went away. My legs brought me back to my old summer home and decided to search around there.

Probably I can find something that would give pleasant memories or even an idea to inspire my muse. Opening the lock, I found myself back to where I was years ago. The place was dusty; nothing's changed except for spider webs. I headed to my old room, seeing my old childish things; my dolls, my souvenirs, my old notebooks. I came towards the curtained window, overlooking the sea that watered the shore, its giant waves splashing melodiously against the rocks. The easiness in which I had let it drift away and the look in my eyes that genuinely imprinted the anxiety caused by the same action, had still astonished me. If it was so important and relevant, and if it brought such sadness, why had I let myself float away?

Summers ago, some fishermen often give me rides on a Philippine traditional boat for sightseeing or even to teach me how they fish. It was the boat our ancestors used. The design sprung from the ancient boats of the Malay people.

I loved the sea, but I can't swim. One could say that the sea is my poison-my heroin. A drop of water can make me happy but thousands can drown me. The ocean is the perfect example of drowning in love. And it isn't because I'm lazy that I can't swim. It's because sharks scare that it hindered me from trying to learn how to swim.

After a bit of reminiscing, the tingling sensations that haunted me came back to change their reasons and start fluttering my heart with ease. I let myself wander around as I left the house with a lighthearted smile. My wanders brought me to a place that's so familiar. I found myself just outside the gate of Rosa's old home.

Was I ready to meet Rosas's parents again? No, I can't bear the guilt. I can't bear to look at them, meeting Rosa once more was painful enough. Because who wouldn't get haunted by their conscience if your friend and her father or your own life was endangered because of you?

I had a horrible flashback. In fifth grade summer, Rosa, her father, and I were on the sea, when one shark came and bit her father's leg which was hanging outside the boat. What came next was all a blur, no matter how slow-motioned it all was. We managed to escape and leave because the shark left.

It was a horrifying experience. I remember blood and scream everywhere. Blood mixed with the salty water only intensified the shark's hunger. It was just then that made me realize that my precious haven is full of mystery and impending danger.

Experts say that in the size of the teeth and mouth that bit Rosa's father was a bull shark and it was believed to mistake humans for sea lions which were the creatures' constant prey asides from schools of fish or spear hunters on hunting areas.

The incident years ago intrigue me to the sea's secrets. In my search, I have learned of an urban legend. Three were a list of list civilizations taken by the sea. From the lost city of Atlantis, sunken earth, to the melting ice of the Atlantic to the sinking islands of the archipelagos and islands.