I was standing on the pier again, staring down at the black water below.

I’d fallen asleep in my bed, in my house, far enough away from the bay that I wouldn’t hear it. Yet here I was, in nothing but my pyjamas, my bare feet inches from the metal railing. The song had called me and, entranced and obedient, I came. I stared out at the calm ocean, my only company the star filled sky and the gentle whooshing sound of the tide washing over the pebbles. The full moon cast a soft glow over the water’s surface, bathing the shore in silver light.

An icy breeze caught my hair, whipping it around my face. I tucked it behind my ears and shivered. The song had faded, but I could still hear the whispers of it in the back of my mind, feel it tingling on my skin. I wondered how long it would be before my feet failed to stop me in time and I too would disappear into the water, never to be seen again. Still, I wished I could see them up close. Part of me wanted to dive in, offer myself to them, just to catch a glimpse.

Dad used to tell me stories about them when I was little. They are beautiful, haunting, he’d say, and deadly. It was why we never visited the beach, why we never swam in the sea. When a boy reaches a certain age, he’d start to hear it. Once you hear their song, you’re hooked. You start hearing it everywhere, even in your dreams. It fills your head and drowns your thoughts, until there’s nothing else, and you’re in the water. Dragged into the depths by the sirens. Dad said that years ago, he thought he’d heard the song, but the next day he met my mother and never heard it again. I asked him if it was only men who could hear the song. He said yes.

So why do I hear it? Not all the men hear it - my friend Kai only hears it sometimes, and it doesn’t affect him at all, and Stewart’s never heard it even though he’s turning seventeen next week. My brother started hearing it two years ago. We lock his bedroom door from the outside at night so he can’t wander from the house. Mum and Dad are terrified that one day we’re going to wake up and Tom won’t be there in his bed. That he’ll be another body washing up on a beach. They all come back, the bodies. Withered to a husk and their faces twisted in horror. It’s like they just suck the life out of you.

It’s so peaceful here, I thought. It was hard to believe that just under the surface of that calm water, death was waiting. There was a metal signpost to my right with the words “Siren’s harbour” sprayed in red graffiti over its proper name. Nobody calls it Neptune's reach anymore. Underneath that was a sign saying “No diving”. To my left was the shoreline that trailed in a crescent up to the lighthouse. I wondered if lighthouse keepers were still a thing. If they were, would they fall victim to the song too? Would they throw themselves from the balcony just to see the sirens?

The old abandoned pavilion stood further out to sea, its silhouette black and foreboding against the horizon. Dad told me that before I was born, a storm took out the walkway connecting it to the pier. No one can really get to it now, so the authorities left it there, letting it stand as a home for the wildlife. That’s when the sirens first appeared.

I could have stayed, watching the tide as it drifted in and out, but the cold air bit at my face and hands, and my feet were numb. I hesitated before turning to leave, allowing myself a second glance at the water. That’s when I saw it. A flash of silver, close to the beach. It looked like a tail. My chest tightened. Could it be? I stared at the water, unblinking, my hands gripping the metal railing as I leaned forward, desperate to catch another glimpse of it. Were they there, waiting for me under the surface? For what felt like forever, I stood, watching the water intently as it crashed against the pillars of the pier below.

I hadn’t noticed the song starting up again, or that my feet were already resting on the railing. Like a forgotten lullaby from my childhood, the song was soothing and familiar. It crept into my ears and thoughts, captivating me. My heart hammered in my chest, not out of fear, but excitement. There were secrets down in the depths of the water. Secrets that I longed to uncover. The song was louder now, a cacophony filling my ears. I clamped my hands over them, trying to resist its pull, but it was too loud. Before I could stop myself, my body swayed, as if dancing to it, entranced by the melody. Moving on its own, my body climbed up onto the railing, and I stepped over the edge. I looked down. Faces formed on the water’s surface, warm and welcoming as they sang. They were smiling, gesturing for me to join them. I could just let go, I thought. I would finally get to see them up close. My grip on the rail loosened.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The icy water rushed up to greet me, and suddenly I was under. Something brushed past my legs, and I opened my eyes. I was floating in a magnificent expanse of blue and green hues. I looked up and gazed in wonder at the soft rays of moonlight that filtered through the glittering surface of the water.

And there they were; the Sirens. Shining like beacons in the deep blue, dancing around me, their silver tails shimmering under the light as they darted gracefully through the water. One of them approached and took my hands in hers. Her face was pale, with soft, youthful features and bright black eyes that glowed in the darkness. Her hair, wispy and white, swayed around her like a halo. Dad’s right, I thought. They really are beautiful.

She looked at me, head tilted, and mouthed something, but I couldn’t make out the words. She seemed confused, as if there was some mistake. Then she smiled. The others gathered around me, their song different now, sadder, hollow and melancholic. The one holding my hands drew me closer. She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. Suddenly, they were gone, and I was alone. The water became murky and grey. My lungs burned as the oxygen left them. I kicked and flailed, desperate to reach the surface, but it was miles away, as distant as the stars in the sky above it. I tried to scream, but only bubbles escaped my mouth. Then the world faded to black.

Sirens blared nearby, not the soft silver sirens I’d just encountered. These ones were accompanied by red and blue lights that lit up the beach, and the sounds of peoples voices. I coughed and spluttered, heaving up mouthfuls of sea water. A white light burned above me, and my head pounded.

An unfamiliar voice shouted, “she’s alive!”

More shouts followed. Someone nearby began barking orders. I could hear the crunch of boots on sand. Then I was being lifted onto something, I think it was a stretcher. I remembered standing on the edge of the pier, and the smiling faces of the sirens. I opened my eyes to see people in uniforms standing over me, their faces flooded with relief, lifting me into the back of an ambulance. A paramedic placed a plastic mask gently over my face.

“Don’t panic,” she said gently. “It will help you breathe. You gave us quite a scare, you know?”

“Delia! Delia!”

That was my Dad, calling me. I tilted my head to see him running over, his eyes red and raw. “Oh my God, Delia! I thought you were dead,” he sobbed.

I tried to speak, but the mask muffled my voice. The ambulance doors slammed shut as the engine rumbled into life. The paramedic said something, but I couldn’t hear her.

“Never scare me like that again,” said Dad, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I thought I’d lost you.”

I thought I was lost too, but for some reason the sirens had spared me. Nobody survives the call of the siren, I thought, but here I am. Suddenly it became clear, and I realised why I was still alive. I squeezed Dad’s hand back. With my free hand, I wriggled the mask down and croaked, “Dad?”

“What is it? Are you ok?” he said, leaning forward in his seat.

“I’m fine, Dad,” I said. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked.

My hand held his tightly. I closed my eyes and took a breath.

“Dad... I think I’m gay.”