I was always a rowdy child. Listening to the rules was never my strong suit. I was a troublemaker, and I was drawn to the ocean. Its strength, vastness, and extraordinary grace charmed me, called me, allured me. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to work on the water. The dangers of the depths never scared me. I loved the ocean. I loved the beings it produced. Fish and animals that lived in those waters. The corals and plants that hid under the dark blue. It always allowed us to feed off itself. It helped us survive. Our distant relatives came out of the water to live on the earth. We evolved to be where we are now, surviving first in the comfort of the oceans. How could we ever fear something that gave us life? I was set on becoming a fisherman. I wasn’t smart enough to be a marine biologist, and my family didn’t have money to pay for a university. So, with only a school education under my belt, the only way I could get to the ocean was fishing. Monsters or not, I was going to explore the waters.

  On the last day of school, when I got my diploma, I rushed to apply for scholarships. I knew it was hopeless, but I still did. Poor grades, no applicable experience, only a fire in me that pushed me further towards my goal. I applied and applied, often waiting months only to hear another rejection. It seemed the world had made up its mind and refused me at every corner or path I could find. My family held me in their embrace after each letter, consoling me while secretly rejoicing in my failure. My father was a mechanic, my mother a cashier in a local store. My grandmother on my mother’s side used to work as a tailor but, in recent years, couldn’t continue anymore because of her tremors and poor vision. My grandfather died long ago, when my mother was still a small child. He used to be a sailor. My grandma always said that my love for water must have come from him. However, he died on one of his trips. My family often reminds me that the monsters dragged him to the depths, where he would never be found. They fear I’ll meet the same fate if I proceed with my goals. I never wanted to believe them, yet it stuck with me.

  When you hear stories of scary monsters that enjoy murdering people at sea all your life, even if you try to resist it, you internalise them. With years passing and my end of school coming closer, I found myself more and more fearful of the water. At 16, I started going to the beach regularly. At first, I couldn’t walk over to the water, even in the company of my friends. They laughed at me. Rebels shouldn’t be scared of superstition. Then I fought against those feelings. I began walking on the edge of the waterline, dipping my legs deeper and deeper with every visit. Soon I remembered how I loved swimming. By 18, I had no more fear. I walked the beaches alone. Swam when and where I wanted. To the absolute horror of my family, I kept coming back to the ocean for more. Then one night, when I was swimming along the shore and enjoying the clear starry sky, I heard it.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  In the moonlight over the calm waves of the ocean, I heard a screeching sound. An inhuman scream that reminded me of the gritting of metal. A shriek like I had never imagined before. It came from the horizon. I looked over. The water seemed calm, except… Somewhere in the distance I saw movement. With a speed greater than a motorboat, something was closing in on me. It disturbed the ocean, creating a line on the surface, like airplanes in the sky. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Another screech brought me to my senses. I turned around, rushing to the shore. I could hear something closing in. I swam faster than I ever had. Powered by adrenaline and pure horror, I kept swimming. But I was too far away. In a moment, I felt something grab my leg. Like a hand wrapping around my ankle and pulling me down. I barely managed to take in a little air before my whole body was silently swallowed by the ocean. In salty water, I couldn’t open my eyes, yet I felt pressure rising as I was dragged to the bottom. Darkness. I thought I would die there, not even able to see the beauty I longed for. However, that something released my leg. I was scared to move. Then someone wrapped their arms around my chest, holding me carefully. I felt a gentle flow on my face. Whoever was holding me, swam me to the surface. Slowly, as if knowing that a rapid ascent might hurt me. I started swimming upwards, helping that someone get me to the air. It was then I realised it wasn’t human. My legs accidentally struck something. It was moving back and forth, pushing the creature and me. A tail. It was covered in scales and tiny spikes. I felt a little cut on my foot after I touched it. Finally, fresh air hit my face. I breathed in hungrily. The hands that held me before released me. I looked down to catch a glimpse of what it was, seeing a silhouette disappearing into the darkness. It had a torso, two arms, and a long tail. I couldn’t look at it for long, as it hid in the depths of the night ocean. I swam back to the shore. Already on land, I examined my foot. It had a small cut that bled slightly, but it wasn’t serious. I sat on the sand for a while, staring into the distant horizon and wondering what had happened to me. I was attacked, yet then saved, seemingly by the same creature. Why did it let me go? If they kill people for enjoyment, why was I spared? I soon headed home. I never told anyone about that encounter. I knew what they would say. The ones who doubted would never believe me, yet those who believed would make me fear it.

  I spent two more years working in retail and attempting to find loopholes for getting into university until one morning I received my last rejection. There were no other choices but to move on and set out to find a job in the desired industry. Fishing and sailing companies required a couple of months of training, but to even get to that you had to go through an interview. While I was researching my options, something caught my eye: they all seemed to prefer candidates with certain training. I looked it up. It wasn’t that expensive and needed nothing more than enthusiasm. I signed up as soon as I could. When spring came, I dropped everything to get to that training. I was about to learn “how to survive mermaids”.