creepypasta origins

As a child, I wanted to be a mermaid

A/N holy shit, i think i may have just found a new favorite...

Growing up, I always wanted to be a mermaid. I think a lot of children have the same wish. I believed firmly that "mermaid" was an occupation that I could be, once I was old enough. I imagined of eventually growing a long, chubby tail with glittering scales. I had dreams of gliding effortlessly through the water.

Maybe I would grow tendrils of beautiful red hair that fell all the way down to the ground. I looked forward for the day when I would be a real-life official mermaid.

My family lived right on the rocks by the ocean. It was a beautiful setting to grow up in. I know now people would kill for a home on the water. The sea breeze would whip by my face each day. It always smelled like fresh rain. I spent most of my time on the beach collecting shells or building fairy huts in the sand. Dolphins were everywhere, chattering to each other. There were beautifully colored fish and other adorable sea creatures. It was paradise.

I had four sisters who I spent all my time with. Each was older than me and much more mature. Even so, they entertained my mermaid fantasy by helping me build elaborate seaweed tails. One would pretend to be a drowning prince and I would rescue them. We'd all cheer as I saved the long-lost prince. I loved to be held in their arms, laughing as they swum me around the tide.

But of course you can't just decide to be a mermaid. My mother made that abundantly clear. Every time I would bring it up she would scoff at me. "Mermaids aren't real," she'd say firmly. She even scolded my sisters for playing at it with me. "You shouldn't encourage her."

My mother was probably right. You can't just be something you're not.

I learned that on the eve of my twelfth birthday. It was night, and my sisters and I were sitting on the rocks. We basked in the glow of the moonlight. A ship approached. It was just a small fishing ship, most likely lost. I usually stayed quiet and watched as my sisters prepared dinner. But that night my mother nodded at me. It was my time.

I cleared my throat. My breath tasted of rotted fish and salt. I opened my mouth and began singing. My voice echoed across the beach. To my ears it sounded like the call of a dying animal. It pitched and fell awkwardly. My sisters were smiling. The terrible tone of my singing drove the animals from the shore.

To the captain though, my song sounded beautiful. He looked out across the water to see me, a young girl, resting upon a boulder. In his eyes I was radiant. Perhaps I had long red hair like the mermaid I wanted to be as a child. To him my body was supple and young. My legs were spread innocently; beckoningly. He could not resist the combination of my beauty and my song.

In reality I wore the skin of a dead girl. My pointed teeth careened against the reptilian shape of my head. Like my mother, I had three armored tails that crashed against the water. My hands curled like claws. My second mouth was open and chomping where my stomach might have been. Putrid fins darted along my torso. Of my sisters, I was the most hideous. If they had loved me less, they may have been jealous.

But like all the men before him, the captain could only see what we wanted him to. He rode his ship as long as he could before the need overtook him. He dove into the water. He swan against the current, eager to reach his vision of the naked girl. I kept singing. Soon my sisters joined me, our horrible cries making ripples on the ocean's surface.

The man never made it to us. He drowned almost twenty feet away. It was so comforting to see the milk-white corpse bobbing in the moonlight.

My mother smiled at me with her second mouth. "You did well, daughter. Now go fetch the body for supper."

Sometimes I miss those childhood dreams of being a mermaid. But truthfully, I wouldn't change who I am now. It is much more fun to watch men die than it is to save them.

author: unknown