Sand, dirt, and now grass in between my toes. It's hard to hide when there are hardly any trees or hills. Prince Eric's castle— our castle— was plain to see from almost every side of the island. Smooth cylinder towers standing along the edge of the cape with a brick aqueduct stretching out to the sea.

 One of the towers in particular was the location of our chamber. I loved that room. Of course, I was probably the only one who noticed the pillars, rug, and ceiling murals. The humans made their castles similar to mermaids, but their walls were meant to keep the elements out. My father's castle was very open to allow the water to freely flow through. Eric had little care for what the room looked like and more for the activity to take place therein. It wasn't long before I too switched my interest.

 Stop it, Ariel. Remember how he pushed you off The Royal. Yes, how could I forget?

 I kept on walking through a small beech forest. The trees resembled white skinless bones shooting up to the sky. Curly branches twisted whimsically at their ends.

 Once, I would have looked up. I would have imagined myself climbing those branches even though I never could.

 I tried to tune out the accusatory voice in my head. The one that wouldn't cease to tell me how awful I was. No matter how loud it became, I couldn't believe it. I made a mistake, yes. But I guess it was fitting that I did. Because that's a very human thing to do. And as of late, I could be nothing else.

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 My body could hardly carry on after being beat so repetitiously by the ocean. It gave me the flogging I deserved. I was weak with hunger. Starvation, that's good. That would keep me moving. I had no plan for how far I would walk or where I was headed. I just had to be as far from Eric as possible.

 The land is flat. Too flat. Everything looks the same. Endless plains of short grass. I eventually walked far enough to see a speck in the distance. Walked further, and that speck was a cottage.

 No longer moping, I pick up the pace. My feet meet with the ground as though they were born to it. I am as fast a runner as I was a swimmer. Faster than any man, at least those I've seen. As quickly as I was acquainted with a patch of land, I passed it just the same.

 Within minutes the cottage was closer to me. It was easy to get going; hard to stop. I was headed for the door.

 As I braced myself for my head to smash, the door swung open, and I entered, slamming down the inhabitant.

 I held the child close to me, my arm around her little head. The sound of a man's clogs made me cling tighter.

 He came closer, I could feel it. The girl was silent in my arms, not pushing away. In fact, she took to my embrace. It was a short moment savored before she was ripped from under me.

 "Let go of me datter!"

 I turned onto my back and saw him. He held a hard grimace with features carved out of stone. Angular cheekbones, a rugged, pointed nose, hooded eyes. His full flaxen beard covered the jawline I could plainly see.

 The girl in his arms continued to smile at me. I was tempted to smile back if only her caretaker wasn't staring me straight in the eye with a pressing look.

 "Who are you? What is this?" He gestured at my appearance.

 I scrunched up the open neckline of my now tattered nightgown in one fist. I didn't know what to say.

 "Can you not speak?"

 "Freja. My name is Freja."