Something breaks the surface of the sea and catches my attention. For a second I think it was just a wave dying at the shore, until a different sound repeats. I sharpen my sight and, just as I’m about to me it on my imagination or fatigue. I see the crown of pink hair. I hold my breath as I watch, with a mixture of fascination and fear, the mermaid who not long ago saved me from the raging sea slowly approach the shore. She doesn’te outpletely, part of her body stays hidden by the water. She curves her lips into a smile that chills my blood and waves her long, w–tipped fingers in greeting

    “It’s captivating, isn’t it?” she says in that velvety voice that seems almost to be singing a luby all the time. “How something so beautiful can be so dangerous, how something that inspires peace can be torment, how calm can turn into a struggle for survival. That is the sea.”

    “Yes,” I answer, holding my breath.

    “Many things have changed since thest time we met, ra Voss.”

    “You knew?”

    “The sea carries everyone’s secrets.” Without warning, her hand grabs my wrist and forces me down buntil /bwe are face to face. “Even those of the gods, dear.”

    I notice her emerald eyes, in whose irises wild waves seem captive, giving her gaze a fierce aspect. Ancient books always showed me images of mermaids as beautiful, angelic beings, but before me I have a creature that from the very bfirst /bbtime /bstirred feelings in me far from serene. Pink locks cling to her cheeks, and I can see how some objects cast into the sea have tangled in her hair.

    “You owe a favor to the sea.”

    “I owe a favor to you,” I say, stressing the final word.

    “A favor to me is a favor to the sea. We are the same, we are one.”

    “What do you want from me?”

    The corners of her mouth stretch even further, if that’s possible, and any trace of beauty is reced by something strugh out of my nightmares. Her hand tightens around my wrist. I struggle, feeling the ws of fear wrap around my throat 1 tip of one of her nails taps right against my belly and, though perhaps impossible, I feel she is pointing exactly where the baby’s heart beats.

    “This.”

    “My baby?”

    “Our baby,” she replies.

    The instinct of protection ignites through my entire body. I yank at my wrist, fighting to free it, but her nails sink into my flesh, tearing a gasp from me. My breathing quickens, I fear being dragged into the water, for I know with absolute certainty that would be my death sentence. Her teeth sharpen, reminding me of a shark’s. I keep struggling as the water rises higher, now reaching my thighs. I scream for help.

    “You won’t take him!” I cry, feeling the words tear my throat.

    Herughter reminds me of metal grinding against metal, leaving behind that sweet luby voice. Something inside me begins to bubble, perhaps my power or just the fear; nheless, she seems to feel it, for she lets go of my wrist. I clutch it to my chest, cradling it against me as I run out of the sea. The coppery smell of my wounds floods my nose.

    “You won’t be able to stop it,” she says with her finger still pointing at my belly. “One day, the sea will im its payment and you won’t be able to do anything to prevent it. Today is not the time, but you will know without a doubt that the sea has imed what you carry in your womb the moment it is born.”

    10:35 Mon, 25 Aug PMb. /b

    * 61%

    Without another word, she departs, leaving no trace behind. The sea erases the marks of her tail on the shore and it’s as if she had never been there, as if she had never nted yet another seed of fear in me. I don’t know how much fear i can endure without breaking. Everyone tells me I am strong, powerful; I’ve wanted to believe it, but I feel vulnerable. More than ever. Not even when I believed myself human did 1 feel as devastated as now. Fear is like the sea, able to extinguish the mes of my courage.

    My mind keeps circling her words. What does she mean by saying that I will have no doubt the sea has imed my baby? Has she already done something even while it’s in my womb? Why him, among all the things I have to offer? Why would the sea want a baby? All the questions suffocate me, clog my throat. The edges of my vision darken and I begin to feel I cannot breathe. I clutch my neck, as if I might find an iron shackle there gripping my throat, when the reality is there is nothing My body is rebelling against me. I copse to my knees in the sand and feel pathetic as I sense myself fading, fighting for a small sip of air. Tears flood my eyes and fall uncontrobly, hot in contrast to my cold skin. I dig my nails into the sand, seeking the strength to stand or to crawl to whoever might help me, who might take this fear away,

    田