A Mermaid's Tail

Home

Walking through the house even in the pitch black of night, I have relied on my immaculate vision to navigate the home. Being born thousands of feet below sea level had its advantages. Living where no sunlight could reach has trained me well for the tasks I will have to undertake. To the left of the main room was another set of planks, a little to the right another entrance way, my guess was this would lead to where a human family would cook for themselves. At the furthest right-hand side there was a small room in which moonlight was starting to spill through casting cascades of shadows along the furniture that was there. Along the walls there were pictures of old humans lined in rows as if it were showing who had lived here prior to the family that took over. Each generation looking different from the last. It must be a home passed down through a generational family that has enjoyed the beaches here.

Taking a step forward into the room careful not to bump into the table sitting between the larger pieces of furniture. Weaving until I stop at the screen of the smaller room. This is the first time I had ever seen my home as a stranger looking out. I had never known that humans thought of our ocean as beautiful, calm, peaceful, and even tranquil until looking before me that night. Watching the small waves crash against the sand, and rocks. This made the thing in my chest that beats oddly, hurt. I felt as if someone had dug a jagged clam shell into my side. I will never see my home again. I will only know life on land, something I should have had years to experience instead of being forced to flee from my home. Moving away from the screen, looking away I could only take so much. The brilliance of the moon was beginning to hurt my eyes. I was not used to this much light.

Walking back through the maze, I made my way up the planks, that I assumed would take me to another level of the home. Standing at the top of the planks looking down the long path in front of me, there were another four rooms. Two on each side of the path, stopping in front of the first entrance on my left. This looked like a place where humans could swim inside of their homes without going to the ocean. Continuing down the path stopping at each entrance finding a large fluffy item in each room. Could this be rooms they used to rest in when they got tired? We usually slept in clams below the ocean when we needed to rest. However, they were used for mating more so than resting where I’m from. Being immortal we never had a need for sleep, we never overexerted ourselves like humans do.

Walking into the back room on the right, I began searching through the smaller entrance ways I found within the rooms. They held clothes of all color’s reds, blues, pinks, magentas, and greys! Why do humans need so many choices? Could they not wear the same thing repeatedly? Sitting down on the fluffy rectangular item at the center of the room, I started to yawn. This was new to me; I had never yawned before surfacing. I had a lot more to learn about life above the ocean. Laying down against the smaller rectangles on the bed. Listening to the waves still crashing against the beach. My eyes drifting closed as I lay here smiling. For now, I’m home, I couldn’t deny the fact that I missed the home I was raised in though. My parents were outside of their minds not knowing where I fled to. Mermaids were quite close to their families normally, so it was usual for all of one family to live together for years before the children set off on their own. I was always too content to leave my parents’ home, until now.

What is this shaking? Why won’t it stop? I slowly lift my eye lids looking around frantically blinking the sleep away from my eyes. Standing in front of me is a human male, the owner of the home. I scream grabbing for anything to cover my chest from his view.

“Are you alright?!” The man asks waiting patiently for a response.

I look around unsure of how to answer him if I answer him in my native language, he will not understand me. All mermaids are not taught to speak English. The only option I have is to shake my head at him hoping he will understand I don’t know how to respond.

“Are you alright?!” He asks again, finally realizing from my vigorously shaking head that I have no clue how to respond. He holds up one of the long skinny appendages on his hand, I’m assuming he means for me to give him a minute. While he rushes out of the room, about ten minutes later he comes back holding a piece of paper with pictures on it. The range from a smiling happy face to that of a sad angry face. He starts pointing at the pictures expecting me to point at one too.

I point at the sad angry face then to myself covered with a pillow on my chest, and the seaweed around my waist ripped off. I was no longer covered and under the scrutinizing gaze of a strange man. This was not a good morning by any means. I could tell it was morning from the rays of sunlight streaming through the window as the sun began to rise. I had chosen a home that someone lived in, which made it the wrong choice. I now had to deal with a human wanting to know where I came from.

Watching as the man pulled items out of the smaller entrance way, he shoved them at me grabbing me by the elbow dragging me down the pathway I had travelled along last night. To the room in which they swim and shoved me inside. I knew he was irritated with me not talking, but until I figured out the language more, I was a sitting duck. Figuring out how to put on the clothes he had given me was a perplexing task, I figured out the one with just one hole in it was the one that covered from my waist down. What do I do with the one that has three holes, I opened the door and looked at him quizzically and back to the item in my hand?

He took the item in my hand turned it around until he found something and slipped it over my head. I started thrashing about not knowing what he is trying to do. He fights me to take hold of my hand and slip it through one of the remaining holes in the article we are fighting over followed by my other arm. Once he was done, he pointed to the mirror, which is where I got the first look at myself since being on land. He had put me in a sea-green item that covered my chest, while my waist and below was covered with a cream-colored flowing type of item. I added a mental note to myself to ask what the names of clothing were the minute I could speak their language.

My normal blue hair with hints of green and pink, was now a fierce fiery red, my sea-green skin tone was now that of a perfectly sun kissed glow. Not to brown, but also not to pale. My eyes stayed the beautiful deep sea-green they had always been. I wasn’t short by any means either. My legs were long and proportionate to my long torso. This was something to be proud of. I would be considered a beauty within the human world as well. Small perky breasts, and a slim figure made me even more vain than I already was before coming onto land.

Following the man back out of the swimming room, and down the planks. I pointed once we got to the bottom wanting to know what they were called. He noticed my action and replied nonchalantly “They are called stairs. Follow me, and well start with lessons so you can communicate with me.” He said waving his hand for me to follow him.

Hopefully, I would be a quick study, not knowing how to communicate was draining me already. I followed him to a table in the room behind the main one. He motioned for me to sit on the hard item he had pulled out. “Chairs are for sitting.” He replied patting the seat of it again. I nodded my head sitting down watching as he pointed to numerous things in the area and repeated the words out loud. Once we were through in the kitchen as he called it, he took me to the main room and repeated the process. Once I knew the words for each room, he started with other words to form sentences.

Pointing at me asking the one thing that I knew he would want to know eventually. “Name?” He questioned me. I now had no choice, but to answer him with the one word everyone knew me by. “Calypso.” I stated, unprepared for his next choice of words.

“Nice, to meet you. My name is Aaron.” Aaron beamed at me. Happy he finally knew what to call me, and that I had basic words in my vocabulary to interact with him. He would gladly teach me more over the next week. I had hoped I would be fluent enough, that I wouldn’t have to depend on anyone being beside of me all the time anymore.