The Mermaid's Song

Appearances

                It was the night of the full moon.  The singing was there when I arrived on the beach, and I couldn’t help myself, maybe it was the moonlight that held a mysterious power over me, or maybe it was the torture of not knowing the melody in my own orchestra, but, that night, I turned to those rocks and started towards them.  The melody was weaving in and out of my head, making the walk slower and longer.  The closer I got, the harder it seemed to pick up my feet.  The moonlight was illuminating the beach, and as I approached the rocks, I could see her hair cascading down her back as her torso faced the sea.  She had Light brown hair, the color of driftwood, and it was tangled and matted and wet, and it tumbled down her porcelain back.  There were bits of seaweed and shell stuck in it, and she was brushing it with a rather odd looking comb.  She sat and sang, and sat and sang and did not seem to hear me approach at all.  I stood still and looked at her back and listened to her soft singing before I made a movement.  

                I reached out and touched her shoulder, and it was smooth and sleek, like wet rock.  I started to say something, but in one fluid movement, she turned around and let out the most ear piercing scream I had ever heard, like the squawk of a seagull, and dove into the water.  I was shocked; the whole transaction took less than fifteen seconds. 

                The image of her leaping into the water was still burned into my mind.  Something was not right about it, it was too foreign.  Her blazing purple eyes had met mine and displayed rage and anger and… fear.  Her beauty was vivid, enthralling and shocking.  But, the way she had jumped into the water was alien.  Then it occurred to me, did she have a tail? That wasn’t possible.  I thought back to the scales I had found, and how she was always perched in this spot, the lack of footprints.  It all seemed to fit, like a sick puzzle, designed to make the player confused and dazed.  But the puzzle was too outlandish, I couldn’t believe it, and it couldn’t make sense.

                I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.  I spent it on the beach, chasing thoughts of this creature with the heavenly voice around my head.  It must be the sleep deprivation, I thought.  It was my broken mind trying to make sense of things beyond my comprehension.  It was a hallucination, my mind told me, pleadingly.  It was due to my insufficient diet, my dehydration, it was due to something! The obvious solution could not be the true one.

The next night I returned, and there was no voice to sing me to sleep.  My symphony did not seem as good, not as complete, and not as enthralling.  My mind would not stop pacing and shuffling through the previous night’s events. It was desperate to find a solution to the occurrence, but there was none.  I was hoping she would return, whatever she was, and lull me back to my dream world, back to peace.  But there was no voice, and for me, no sleep.  I walked home in a trance, slowly opening my front door and groggily getting ready for school. I heard my father in the other room getting ready, and my mother running the shower.  My father hardly ever noticed anything I did, claiming to be too busy supporting the family, and my mother had her hands full with my brother, and was always making frazzled excuses.   

                At school, only my friend sensed something was wrong.  “You all right there, boss?” Ben asked, no real interest in his voice.  “You look a little green around the gills.”  My head snapped up at the fish reference, instantly connecting it to the strange melody, and the singer.  

                “Me? Oh, yeah, I’m fine, just a rough night’s sleep.  Like the night before, and the night before that.  Haven’t been sleeping well, Ben.”

                 “Tried some of that Nyquil stuff? I heard it puts you right to sleep.” He was trying to be helpful, I could tell.  But I was on edge today.

                “Yeah, doesn’t work.  I’ve been going to beach to try and clear my head.”

                “Hm.  I’ve been hearing that people have been seeing some pretty fishy stuff down there.  My old man was talking about how he heard someone singing the other night and that is was the most pure thing he had ever experienced.  Crazy guy, that old coot.”  He looked out the window.  Getting back on track, he added “What have you been doing down there?” He asked.

                There had been rumors of a girl singing on the beach? So I wasn’t crazy.  But I knew I must look paranoid, so I faked a laugh. “I haven’t heard any singing down there, Ben.  I guess your dad is a crazy old coot.”  Ben just shook his head and laughed. 

                But I wasn’t the only one who had been hearing it, so it must be real, not a hallucination, not a concoction of my overworked, overtired mind.