mermen and stuff

Chapter 1

---Adrienne's P O V---

     The light of dawn flashes through my bedroom window. I wake up, yawn and decide to freshen up and prepare for the day.  After that, I grab my trusty fishing pole, my bucket (to put the fish in if I catch any), and a can of sardines next to the fishing pole.  People usually don't use sardines to fish but they cost less than bait and I eat the ones I don't fish with for breakfast. 

     I exit my tiny beach home and walk across the damp sand in order to reach the dock. I enjoy living here because, since this beach is far civilization and this place doesn't get as much sun as the rest of the state, there are little to no people that come to this beach. Few people still come during the hot summer days however, but they, as well as I, think about this beach as a special quiet place. 

     The gritty sand wafts through my feet as I grow nearer to the ocean. I hear the caws of nearby seagulls. Jesus, those things wake up early. 

      Once I reach the docks, I set down all my supplies and open up the can of sardines. I pick up a slippery sardine and gently slide it onto the hook of my fishing pole. Then, before I cast my line, I check if everything if working properly, you know, for safety. Then I cast my line into the crisp, blue waters and start to fish. 

~~~Finn's P O V~~~

     I hear footsteps walking on the dock once again. I quickly hide underneath the dock and listen as the delicate footsteps get louder as the step closer to the edge of the harbor. I hear the human sit down and gather some sort of, what I presume tools, before throwing a string of some sort into the water. Attached to string is a sharp hook with a tiny fish attached to it.  

     I remember this human. They come here every morning, set a hook into the water with a fish carcass fastened to it and wait. Once a fish falls for the bait, they are reeled upwards and taken away, never to be seen again. Today seems different though, no fish seem to be interested in the bait today. It's like they know that it is a trap. 

    15 minutes seem to go by and the human seems to get restless. They swish and swirl the fish around, waiting for something to bite. I feel bad for the human. Even though they can't catch me, I still want them to feel like a fish is interested in their bait. Plus..breakfast wouldn't hurt.

---Adrienne's P O V---

        I am about to give up and go back home when I feel a slight tug on the rod. Yes! This is my chance! I reel in my catch. Or, at least I try to. This fish is holding on tight and my fishing pole barely moves. I try again, harder this time and the fish seems to gives up. The hook comes out of the water and I am unpleasantly surprised to find nothing on the hook. Odd..I was expecting something huge or at least the head or tail of the sardine stuck on to the rope but nope. Instead I am gifted with a heap of nothing. 

    How can a fish just perfectly slide a sardine off like this? I assume from the bottom and pulling really hard but there would only be a tug if it had been caught. Unless it broke free? No, very unlikely. Whatever. This strange fish intrigues me. I take my bare hook and slide another sardine onto it and let loose. Almost immediately, I feel my string being tugged by the creature again. I gather up all of my strength and might, and with one swift motion, I pull the fishing pole back and reel in the fish as hard as I can. The fish stops pulling and I bring out of the water  a beautiful, sparkling and ravishing pile of nothing. 

     I start to become even more curious. So curious, in fact, that I place another sardine on my hook. Sure enough, the thing pulls, then releases. And as I pull the hook back up, there isn't at trace of a fish even being there. This time I completely abandon the fishing pole and just dive my hand into the cold blue, holding a fish between my thumb and forefinger. 

     I know this is risky considering whatever it is could have sharp teeth and bite my hand off but I decide to risk it. This time, more carefully than the last three times the fish takes my bait from my hands. I notice that whatever is eating my sardines is big. Like, really big. Like, bigger than any fish I've ever caught big. Yet, I still have a hand so the thing must be docile for the most part. 

     This time I decide to put my hand deeper into the water to try and catch a glimpse of what this thing may be. I take my fish and plunge my hand deeper into the water than last time. I am basically leaning over the side of the dock at this point. But I loose my balance and plummet into the dark, wet abyss.

    And I just remembered, I don't know how to swim.