Mermaid
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She threw herself off the side of the ship, nightgown flowing out behind her. And as she hit the water, a smile, sad and haunting, crossed her lips.
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Sometimes, Father will tell me the tale of the lady in white, the ethereal woman who jumped off a ship early in the morning. Sometimes, he will describe to me how angelic she looked as she fell. He tells me of how her flaming hair twinkled in the light of dawn, of how her face seemed to be at complete peace.
The first time Father told me this tale was long ago, in the young years of my childhood. As he tucked me in for the night, I pleaded for a tale. Perhaps it was because of the moon that night or the sudden memories that Father told me of her.
A beautiful story, woven from the view of a poor fisherman's vision was what came to my ears. The great sun was not yet in sight but some of its rays had already crept over the horizon, lightly spraying the sky with rays of gold.
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Her body disappeared under the dark waves, leaving nothing more than sea foam in its place.
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The boat rocked gently in the water, Father rocking along with it. His fishing net was beside him as were his oars. To get good fish, one had to wake up early and catch them before the large ships from the harbor did. This important lesson was taught to me by Father who was taught to by Grandfather.
Father's gentle eyes scanned the sea's surface, looking for a good spot. It was at this time when he spotted the large wooden vessel. This vessel was the kind a noble of sorts would sail in. Flags and fancy masts were all over it. My father passed over them without a second thought. Even their bright colors failed to gain his attention. No, what really caught his eye was the maiden at the deck.
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Several seconds passed but the she did not resurface. The water moved back and forth in a heavy motion and the maiden was now as good as gone.
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The sun's rays glinted off her scarlet hair, setting it alight against the brightening sky. She wore a pale, white nightgown, simple but fitting for her in a way. Her body shook from the cold winds and she looked incredibly fragile, standing on the ship.
Father watched in a mix of horror and fascination as she lifted a tiny foot and stepped off the side of the ship. He could have sworn time had slowed itself down in that one moment. An eternity could have passed as she slowly began plummet.
Her fall down was quiet. No scream erupted from her throat. As she hit the water, Father swears he saw a smile cross her lips, sad and haunting. Then her head is gone, under the waves, into the water.
With baited breath, Father waits for her to come back up. He waits and hopes and desperately wishes for her to, but she didn't come back. Several seconds passed and left in her place was sea foam.
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Perhaps my eyesight was going bad or I only imagined it, but I saw the lady up in the sky, smiling, laughing, and twirling among the fading stars.
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This I'm not too sure of but Father claims that when he looked up, the lady was up in the clouds, laughing and smiling and twirling with no care in the world. He said he saw her flaming hair twinkle and flap around her face. He said she looked just like she did when she fell. He said she looked like an angel.
Now, I can only imagine all of this with my mind. Father was the one who saw it and only him. The best I can do, is believe him. And sometimes, I think I can see her too, dancing up in the sky, happy as can be. Sometimes, I also wonder what caused her to kill herself like that. Maybe I will never find out, maybe I will. All I can do is do what I do now.
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She looked like she was dancing. She looked like she was flying. She looked like she was an angel.
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Disclaimer: I do not own the fairy tale "The Little Mermaid"
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Spur of the moment thing. When you write at around midnight, it gives you many ideas and inspiration. Criticism and suggestions would be nice.
Cole