Fish Out of Water

Scene Five III

To hide the ocean water that has conjured so suddenly at my eyes, I turn to see a table covered in various objects bearing Brendan's face.

"Oh, yeah, that."

I startle and turn to find him standing right behind me.

He gives me a boyish smile as he rakes a hand through his hair, which has dried much faster than mine. "I'm trying to run for president on my campus, for when summer vacation is over."

His words are alien to me, but there's no way for me to tell him that. Instead, my gaze drops to a set of garments in his hands.

Brendan follows my gaze. "These are some smaller sizes I haven't gotten rid of yet. I thought they might fit."

I take the shirt from him before tentatively taking the garment like the one he wears on his legs. Then I glance down at those legs. If I can memorize the way he's wearing this contraption, perhaps I can replicate it.

"My bathroom is over there if you want to try it on there," Brendan says before frowning. "Wait, no, I left it a mess, too."

With that, he takes off running into the so-called bathroom, and I hear the sound of objects being thrown roughly around.

Frowning at his curious behavior, I turn back to the legged garment. Surely it's a simple contraption if people like Brendan can figure it out...

Several moments, two collapses on the ground, and one very near utterance of something un-queenly later, I'm holding it bunched up at the waist to keep it from slipping off and undoing all my hard work.

Brendan walks back into the room, takes one look at me, and laughs.

I glare at him.

"I'm sorry," he gasps, "it's just, you have them on backwards. It's like you've never worn pants before or something-"

Still glaring at Brendan, I glide past him to the room of baths and slam the move-able wall shut behind me.

This moment alone is all it takes for the events of the day to catch up with me. My new legs wobble beneath me, and I slide down the door, feeling too weak to keep standing. The ocean brims my eyes again, and I want to let it pour out over me so strong my fins return. Then I can swim back to my sisters and save them all. Return us to my father, my home, my kingdom.

Calypso's laughter echoes in my head, and I lift my chin defiantly. Weakness is what left me in her clutches. Strength is what I need to defeat her.

Pushing myself back to my alien feet, I startle to see my face in the wall, not unlike the coveted glass mirror I have back in my palace room, gathered by the bravest mermen from beaches after lightning has struck the sand.

The woman staring back at me is a mess. Outside of the water, my hair is turning a lighter shade, and instead of flowing gracefully around me, it is falling in tangled rivulets from the mess of an updo I tamed it into.

Reaching up, I release my hair from its confines, and run my fingers through it. I am a queen, and I shall look like one. I shall return to my family and my birthright. Whether that path means I must use my beauty to win the heart of a two-legged creature, or manifest my majesty to tame the currents once again to my command, it shall be done.

I will not surrender. Calypso will not win. I shall be victorious.