Me

 I float. I. Who am I? This is a dark place and I am in it.

 I float. It is warm here. I am warm.

 My extremities work to push me, to move me. But to where? Everywhere is the same. My head is plugged full of whatever it is that I am in. My nose inhales it.

 I get tired and stop moving. Eyes open: I see darkness. Eyes closed: I see darkness. It is all I see. I bask in it, sway in it, sleep in it…

 What is that? I feel something at my foot. It feels cold. I kick it. It grabs me and pulls me down. Stop!

 But it doesn’t stop. I go down, and I don’t know where or why. Its grip gets tighter which hurts. I feel a sharp sting and think my foot may come off!

 Then I hit the bottom. But it still pulls me. I will not go! I fight. I kick. I wriggle in the abyss. Let me go!

 “Stop fighting!” I hear a soft yet thunderous voice shout, echoing through me. Then I am let go. I float up. I am free.

 Something shines over me and I realize my eyes are still closed. I open them and see a tiny light.

 The light slowly goes around me. I reach out and touch it. It shakes. I come closer and see who the light belongs to.

 I am met with the scariest sight I have ever seen in the short time of my existence. It had sharp teeth raised above its mouth. Its face sagged in many areas. Its eyes stayed open. I wondered if they matched whatever my eyes were doing as I looked upon this creature.

 I try to push myself away, but I am inert. “What are you?” I ask, surprised by the sound of my voice.

 “I am the Angler,” he says. He is not the same voice I heard before. “Guardian of the deep.”

 “The Deep? Is that where I am?”

 “Yes,” he says. Then he circles me. “Now, what do you have to say for yourself for disturbing Her Highness, The South Sea?”

 “The South Sea? Is that why I’m here? Is she why I’m here?”

 “Precisely.”

 “Precisely?”

 “Uh, Exactly. Correctly. As is the case.”

 “What is the case?”

 “Well, your case is that you have to give an account for yourself.”

 I didn’t understand most of what he said.

 “Ugh, child! You are being tried.”

 “For what?”

 “For being born. One of the highest of crimes. The Sea repels you. She does not want you here. You have to give a reason for why you should stay.”

 I shudder. How am I a disturbance? What have I done? And what should I say? I have not been long. I am only still being. How can I convince The Sea? I can not even convince myself. “The Sea repels me?”

 “Well, you sure catch on quick.”

 “I wouldn’t know,” I say, stalling. “Who am I?”

 “Hmm…,” The Angler thinks. “That’s a tricky question. I’ve never seen anything like you before. If I’m being technical, you are an accident. But for now, let’s call you… mmm… Water… child.”

 Waterchild, the accident. That’s me.

 “Well?” the Angler waits impatiently.

 “Well, what?”

 “Speak! Tell Her Highness your reason.”

 My reason for living? I don’t know. I look around. My eyes have adjusted and suddenly I see them: More lights surrounding me; more strange creatures watching me.

 “I… I…” I start. “I should stay because… because…” I am afraid to speak. These words matter. More than any I plan to use in the future. If there is a future.

 “Because?” the Angler insists.

 “I want to,” I finally say.

 I don’t know how, but I feel a rage in the abyss vibrating through me. It isn’t mine. It’s someone else’s. Perhaps The Sea.

 The Angler swims away from me. His light dangling in front of him, getting smaller and smaller.

 “Wait! Come back! What is wrong?”

 “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Your answer was poor, child. A poor answer receives a poor judgment.”

 I look down. I am sad. “But I want to stay.” I want to stay and I don’t know why. What is worth staying for? I see scary creatures and darkness, and The Sea hates me, but I want to stay.

 I feel it again, the cold thing meant to drag me down. I hear its clinks and tinks. My mind thinks of what I might be missing by not staying. But then I resolve in my head that I won’t be missing anything. I let it take me down, down…

 “Halt!” Someone shouts.

 Suddenly, I am no longer pulled.

 “In who’s name?” the Angler interrogates.

 “Inky,” the person replies, but I cannot see them.

 I hear gasps all around.

 “And what business have you here, Inky?”

 “I will not speak to you. Where is my mother? MOTHER!” she starts to yell. “Why do you hide, you coward?! Face me!”

 “The South Sea will do as she pleases!” shouts the Angler.

 “And I suppose you are the new Guardian of the deep?”

 “Look no further.”

 “Hmph, trailing in your father’s current, I see. I will not let you do this to another one. It is unfair and you know it. The child can not speak for herself. You know she can not. What is even the point of a trial?”

 There is a silence that I can’t bear. Who is this that is speaking on my behalf?

 “Give the girl to me. I’ll put her to use.”

 “That can not be allowed,” argues the Angler. “No one can know of her existence.”

 “I’ve done well to keep myself a myth. Let her experience the world outside the water. Granted, there may be no use for her here. But she will learn enough with me.”

 “Why do you care so much what happens to this abomination?”

 What did he say I was? Abomination? What does that mean? By the way he spat the word, it can’t be good. There is a short pause.

 “You,” Inky held a harsh grit in her tone, “have no heart. You are the abomination!”

 I hear more gasps.

 “And so is The Sea!”

 Gasps again.

 “Blasphemy!” The Angler shouts. “You will join her in the core!”

 “We’ll see about that.”

 Then, marvelous movement happens in the water. It is being pushed back from one spot. I am in that spot. The Angler is pushed away. He can not come near me. I feel someone grab my arm. I am taken up. I go up, up, up. Bubbles fill my face. I am shot upward. My insides carry a strange feeling that I do not like. I feel the water leave me. My body, exposed. I land and the feeling inside calms. I am on a “bottom” somehow, though it is not the bottom of the deep. But it is just as soft. I feel cold. My ears leak, making me realize they were filled. My head feels lighter.

 I lay my head on the softness. It sticks to me. I look up and see who grabbed me. This is Inky: she is pale and covered in brown spots. She is short and stocky. Her long brown hair, sticking to her face, neck, and arms. She has striking green eyes rimmed in black. Above them are thick eyebrows. I think it is funny that she has covered herself in large green things, wrapped around her body. She is also standing above me. How is she doing that?

 “Are you hurt?” she asks me.

 I move around. Feeling for any sign of pain. The only pain I feel is the one on my foot. She crouches by me and assesses the injury that that tink-clink caused me. I look at it. I see a large slit where red stuff oozes.

 “You are bleeding,” she says. “Lift your foot off the sand.”

 I do.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

 “Hold still.” Inky waves her hand towards the water. Pieces of it rise up. It comes closer to me. She turns her wrist, and the water wraps in a ring around my foot. It feels cool and relieves the pain.

 “Feel better?”

 I nod.

 “It will have to stay there until the cut heals. Now, try to stand.”

 I look at her, unsure.

 “Come on. You can do it.”

 I slowly roll up my back, pressing my elbows in the sand.

 “That’s it. Now, raise up your knees.”

 Confused, I raise up my entire leg.

 “No. Your knees. Like this.” She holds my legs and pushes up the lower half of them. “Take my hand.”

 I do as she says. Slowly, she lifts me, and I am soon standing like her. I feel extremely heavy. I don’t want to be like this. She holds me with one of my arms over her shoulder.

 “So, two things are an issue here,” Inky says. “You are not used to standing, and currently your bones are too dense. Come with me.” Inky takes one heavy step as though she hurts to move, but she must be more used to it than me. I try to mimic her. She moves her other leg and so do I. She tries it again but I am too tired to move.

 “I can’t,” my voice cracks with worry.

 “You can. I need you to try. I can only support you so much.”

 “Support me?”

 “Keep you up.”

 So I try. I take one step, then another. We keep going towards a lot of tall monsters that sprouted from the sand. Their tops were green like Inky’s covering. I stop.

 “What is it? Why are you stopping?”

 “I don’t want to go in there. What are those things?”

 “They are only trees. They don’t move or bite. Let’s keep going.”

 I move, but slowly. I look all around me. There is so much green. And other vibrant colors. It is dark but I can see them. I hear noises coming from everywhere. My skin tickles with alertness. As we walk I watch Inky’s face. She is sure in her movements, scanning with her eyes. She is looking for something. There is a stiffness about her. I want to ask her why she saved me from the deep, from the Angler, from The Sea.

  “Aha!” she gasps.

 Finally, we sit on a hard thing by one of the trees. This one had lots of soft brown stuff attached to it.

 Inky starts picking the brown stuff. “Eat,” she says. “Eat as much as you can.”

 “What is it?” I say.

 “Mushrooms,” she answers. “Eat enough of them, and they weaken your bones.”

 I don’t know what this means for me, but I do what she says. I try one. It tastes like nothing. It is soft on my tongue. I keep chewing. I eat more until I can eat no more. My body feels lighter.

 “You see how it works?” Inky asks me.

 “Sort of.”

 She holds up a mushroom in front of me, “You eat this to get lighter. You and I are very dense. It’s how we can live in the deep. Mushrooms help us lose that density.”

 I start to understand. “But, how did you go back?”

 “I ate lots of nuts and green things. It makes me more dense. I prepared for three days just to build up the density to go back, once I had heard you were here.”

 Suddenly questions bubble over in my mind. “How do you know so much? How long have you been up here? Is there anyone else here? And why did you save me?”

 Inky smiles at my curiosity. “The earth told me how it works.”

 “The earth?”

 “It’s where we are. It took me when The Sea would not. Mother was going to kill me too. I saved you because I am like you.”

 She holds her hand up to me. I assume she wants me to bring my hand to hers, and I do. She closes her eyes. Her spots move with the tightening and folding of her skin. She opens her eyes again and I see their greenness. I see me inside them. “We are one and the same,” she says.

 “Why does The Sea hate us?”

 Something changed in her eyes. “Because she is selfish. She will share her waters with no one.”

 “I don’t understand. If she doesn’t want us, why did she make us.”

 “She didn’t mean to. You see, it started off as a love story. Despite how she lies, it is not The Moon that pulls the tide but the tide that calls The Moon. Our mother is very flirtatious. One day, the moon came down and dipped his roundness in the water. And so I was made. But he rose back to the sky and remained far away. I saw this happen when you were born. I never thought he’d do it again. I’m told the first time he did, mother went into a savage rage, creating tsunamis and whirlpools and hurricanes.”

 I was confused by this in many ways but chose one more question. “What is The Moon?”

 Inky tilts back her head. “Look up.”

 I look up. Above me glows a round light in the sky. I gaze quietly. I am in wonder of it. I can see him. Can he see me? I am the child of The Sea and Moon. Waterchild. Water-moon-child.

 “Why are you smiling?”

 I look at Inky who asked her question in a rather irascible manner. “Should I not smile?”

 “You should not allow yourself to be in awe of him.”

 “Do you have hate for him?”

 “Of course not. As I always say, ‘have no love nor hate for anyone.’ I feel nothing for The South Sea or The Moon because I have decided that neither has any ties to me. I am no one’s child. That is what Inky means.” She shakes a proud fist to compliment her statement.

 “My name has meaning, too,” I say.

 “Really? And what does Waterchild mean?”

 My head lowers slightly. “Accident,” I say half under my breath.

 Inky rests her cold hand on my shoulder. “You are no accident. You know why Inky means no one’s child?”

 I shake my head.

 “Because I made it mean that. And we will find a meaning for you yet.”

 “Really?”

 “Really.”

 I would smile, but for some reason, I shiver, and I feel the need to cover myself.

 “Are you cold?” Inky asks me.

 “Yes. Very.” My jaw clacks together.

 “I shall make you something to wear.” She stands up and waves her arms around. I watch as random green things are taken from the tops of the trees and tossed around until they come together to form a covering like Inky’s. She gives it to me.

 “What is this stuff?” I ask.

 “Leaves. Fern leaves sewn with vines. Let me help you put it on.”

 There are so many green thin- I mean- leaves used for the covering that it feels heavy on me. They hang from my body and provide me warmth. I sway in them and play with them, shaking my arms to see them shimmer in The Moon’s light.

 “The Sea let the earth take me,” Inky starts, “But she was set on being rid of you. She may come looking for us. We should move farther that way so that if I’m correct, she will never find us.”

 “Must we move now?” I ask because I am feeling tired.

 Inky looks at the ground, thinking about it. “I understand how you must be feeling right now. We will move tomorrow, then.”

Inky

 She does not know what I know. What Mother is capable of. Why Father is distant. She is sure to fall in love with whatever she sees. I am the only one to care for her now. The only thing keeping her from pain and even death. I have a responsibility. A reason. My actions will become her actions. My words will instill her thoughts, her perception of everything.

 As the sun’s golden light creeps up my body, from the ankles to the navel, I watch her doze in the shade. Keeping the memory of her strikingly blue eyes in mind, I am ready to see them in full radiance. It still boggles me how alike we are. Our olive skin, upturned noses, and bow-shaped lips. But her hair is raven, her body is leaner, and I am sure that if she stood properly, she’d be taller than me.

 For days my only wish was that I would not be alone. Now I am not. But I cannot let her grow on me. I will remain concerned for Waterchild’s safety, but I can never allow myself to love. Nay.

 “AHHHH!”

 A noise arouses me. It’s Waterchild. “What is it?” I ask.

 She rolls on the ground, maniacally. She is screaming at the top of her lungs, covering her eyes.

 I think I know what the problem is. I shout at her to stop. I pounce on her, grab her arms, and pull them to her sides. “You will behave yourself, now!” She slowly gets quieter. Her wail wanes into a whine. I shush her. “It’s alright. I understand. Do this. Blink your eyes.” She obeys. I bring a hanging branch over her face to shade it. “Now slowly, open your eyes.” She does. I see their blueness rimmed in black.

 “Inky,” She says with a smile, relieved. She touches my face. “I was so scared. It was all too, too…”

 “Bright?”

 “Yes, I think.”

 I put my hands on my lap. “That is because the sun is up. But there is no need to be afraid. For the earth is now even more beautiful than before. See for yourself.” I help her up. She looks around. And from then on we carry through the day without a minute of silence. Seeing the amazement in Waterchild’s eyes, hearing her ask about every color, plant, insect, and more, made me realize all that I have become accustomed to. I had forgotten how it felt to be new. Everything that scared me at first, does not scare me now.

 She is frequently stopping me to ask about things I hardly notice anymore. I am not used to this; all this talking. I have only spoken to myself in my head. Now, I must occupy her. Use my voice more often than I would like to. I watch as she rushes over to the river. She cups the water in her hands and takes a sip. My water ring is still around her foot. “How is your foot doing?”

 She looks down at it as though she forgot about the ring. “Oh. It’s better, I’m sure.”

 I go to her, crouch by her leg, and do a beckoning motion with my hands. The water ring unravels and comes to me. It is slightly tinted with her blood. I hold it in the air, then with a whip motion, it spews into the river, becoming no more than like the rest of the water.

 “How do you do that?”

 I look up at Waterchild, confused. “You can not?” She shakes her head. So, I shrug, “I have always been able to. I don’t know. It just happens like I want.” Waterchild tries to do it. I watch her whip her arms around wildly while her eyes remain fixated on the river. She grunts and whines. “I think that’s enough,” I say. “No point in trying to do what can’t be done.”

 “But I want to move the water like you.”

 I see the disappointment tight in her face. I will not make her feel any worse. “Well, maybe you will, one day. You still have lots of time.” I sigh, looking around for a nice, juicy creature to appear.

 I spot a rat. It’s an easy catch. The tiny animal is creeping out of its burrow under a tree root. I take to a crawl, then inch up as closely as it will allow. I wait, considering my chances. I am not fast enough to chase it, but if I lure the rodent into the water, I can bind it, drown it, and then finally, eat it.

 I take one more step before leaping over to the ground ahead of the rat, giving it the incentive to run in the opposite direction. It scurries under a leaf. I swipe a finger to lift it. The rodent finds another place to hide just beside the water behind a sabal minor plant. This is it. All I have to do is scare it in.

 “Inky?”

 “Shush!”

 “What are you doing?”

 “I am trying to catch our food.”

 “Food?”

 I roll my eyes, “It’s what you eat.”

 That is when Waterchild gapes in shock. “No. I don’t want to eat that creature.”

 My eyes cut to hers, “Well, I do.” I pounce once more at the plant. But nothing falls into the river. I feel around but there is no rat to be found. I grunt, “Look what you did. You wasted our food.”

 “Good.”

 My nostrils flare in frustration, “Good?”

 “Yes. How could you possibly eat something so helpless?”

 I shrug, “It’s a rat.”

 “So?”

 “So, the more helpless, the easier it is to catch. And the more your belly will thank you for it.”

 “But what happened to sparing a life? You wouldn’t eat me, would you?”

 I realize her issue and laugh. “Waterchild, rats don’t matter like we do.”

 “Why not?”

 “Well… I don’t exactly know. But they don’t. Believe me. I too was gracious to the other creatures that live here, once. But when I began to look more and more like this,” I hold up a thin twig, “it did not take long for me to learn to accept the earth’s gifts when given.”

 “Gift?”

 “Yes.” I rise from my crouching position. “The rat was just a gift from the earth to fill our bellies.” My mouth waters in regret, “but even gifts expire.”

 Waterchild frowned, “So when I stopped you, I did a bad thing?”

 I take her in my arms. Her leaves entangle with mine. “You did what you thought was right,” I say.

 “Well, I will never do it again. I will eat all the rats you give me. I will listen to you. I will.”

 I smile. “I know you will.”

Sebastián

 At night, I hear it loudest; the crying. The wails of helpless girls. I saw them- saw their frightened faces through the netting. Their fingers, clawing through the holes. Knees upon knees, arms upon tiny arms. Feet in faces.

 They were all bundled together, screaming for help. Suffocating with little space. They wanted me to save them. As I remember it, one girl even shouted my name. How did she know it?

 She was the oldest one. The calmest one. While the rest of them held hopelessness within their eyes, hers were flaming with judgment. They stared straight into my soul. They challenged me, directing at me a question I couldn’t answer. What kind of person would I be at that moment? Would I free them?

 I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard the heavy net drop into the merciless waters. Muffled screams, below. To this day, those eyes haunt me. And I wonder, could I have done it? Could I have saved them?

 I feel something grip me. My body tenses. I am being shaken. I shriek.

 “Wake up, girly!”

 I tumble from my bunk onto the dank floor. Embarrassment comes with the realization that I’d screamed loud enough for the entire crew to hear. Before my early knocker says another word, I shoot up like a stalk with my hand saluting at my forehead. “Up and ready, sir!” I can hear the others chortling.

 He pushes my chest, swaying me a little. “Get dressed, then line up.”

 “Aye, aye, sir.” The quartermaster leaves. I sigh. I am taller than him, than most of the men on the ship. But he could break me like a chicken bone if he wanted.

 I will get dressed, and soon. But I take a moment to look out the porthole at the endless blue. I wonder if at any moment, I might be able to see a leg, arm, or face. I see nothing. Nothing but waves. She never haunts me when I'm awake; she'll be back tonight.