The Nereid

The Nereid ~ a Mermaid Tale

  By Hannah Cuckler

  Copyright Hannah Cuckler 2012©

  The Nereid

  How long do you think it takes for your life to go to hell? An hour? A few days? A week? A month? For me, it took about ten minutes. It started at the beach just after summer break started.

  It was another bright, sunny day in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Myrtle Beach was my ultimate favorite tourist destination. There was something about the scorching heat, the hot sand on your sensitive feet, or maybe the rush of the waves followed by the delighted screams of children. People were scattered all across the sand dunes, laying on blankets, towels, or sheets. There were colorful umbrellas dotting the area and even more colorful chairs. The deep blue-green of the ocean made my stomach churn—in a good way.

  Up on the pier, men and women were casting down long lines attached to fishing poles. Some were reeling in sharks, string rays; I even say a jelly fish hooked on to one of the lines.

  At this point, it was nearly eight thirty in the evening. The last of the people were packing up, getting ready to leave the beach because the tide was coming in and the sun was sinking below the horizon. I was waiting for them all to leave so I could walk along the beach alone to see what shells I could find. Myrtle Beach was a great place to find full shells without many chips or breaks in them and I wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity. Plus, I wanted to see if the moon really did rise out of the horizon… It was supposed to be a full moon and I was hoping it wouldn’t disappoint.

  By eight o’clock, most the tourists had cleared out. There were still a few hanging around, some college students about to start a camp fire and I saw a lady walking her dog. Without much more thought, I set my canvas bag on the sand and grabbed my bucket and flashlight. I tucked my flashlight into my pocket since I didn’t need it quite yet and I set out to collect shells.

  Okay, so I was a little strange. There I was, nineteen years old, just finished my freshman year of college, and I was collecting sea shells on the beach. In my defense, I wanted to be a marine biologist. I loved everything about sea life and I intended on making shell decorations for my bathroom so I could bring a little bit of the sea into my home.

  I walked slowly along the beach. I was ankle-deep in the water with the waves licking further up my legs. It was so calming. Everything about the ocean was. I loved being near it and hearing the soothing sound of the whooshing waves. The gritty sand massaged the bottoms of my feet with every stroke of the pulling and pushing waves. I felt the broken shells pass over the top of my feet with their sweet caresses. When you looked out, the sky was darkening, swallowing the ocean into the horizon.

  Sometimes, I pretended that the ocean loved me as much as I loved it.

  I bent down to scoop up a handful of shells and wet sand. I sorted through it quickly, picking out what I wanted and letting what I didn’t want falling back into the water. I did this for some time until I realized I was being pulled out to sea by the tide. I chuckled to myself and walked back inland.

  Approaching the pier, I could hear the waves slamming into the posts that held it up, but I also heard a different splashing sound. Have you ever heard the sound a fish makes as if flops around on land, trying to make its way back into water? Yeah, that was the sound I heard. Something’s tail was slapping furiously against the water, trying to escape something.

  In confusion, my eyebrows pulled together. I walked silently under the pier and set my bucket of shells on a dry spot before walking straight into the water. I found myself going deeper and deeper until it was up to my waist. Then I saw the creature.

  It seemed to be an oversized fish. A light bulb worthy idea flashed through my mind. I pulled my flashlight out of my pocket and switched it on. Thank the lord it was water proof! I moved the bright, white beam along the length of the scaly, green fish tail. I stepped closer, and closer. As I approached, the creature stopped fidgeting. It halted its struggles and remained still. I edged nearer to it and flashing the beaming light at it again. It was caught in a net…and then I realized something.

  Its hands were caught in the net.

  My eyes widened automatically as this realization dawned on me. As far as I knew, no sea creature had hands. Bubbles rose to the surface less than a foot away from me. I swallowed hard and turned my light to their source.

  I couldn’t help myself, I screamed. Staring back at me were almond shaped, emerald green eyes that seemed all too human. I jumped back; only to realize that I was waist deep in the ocean and that I wasn’t going very far.

  The creature…it was scary but I guess it was what you would classify as a mermaid. Except, this was nothing like Ariel. This was no porcelain-skinned beauty with a mane of red hair. This was…almost not human at all.

  From the waist down, was the only thing Disney got right—a green scaled fish tail. From the waist up was a human’s body shape, but it too was covered in green scales. Every inch of it was, even the face. It had hair—long, black hair that was floating around its face with scales that reflected the light weaved into it. I liked to assume it was a girl because it had more feminine features and well, she wasn’t wearing a seashell bra.

  “Holy mother of…” My mouth was hanging open in shock. This was amazing. Nobody in the world had seen anything like this. My name was going to be known worldwide if I managed to capture her. With that thought, I shot forward.

  Her face was a mask of complete horror. Her lips were parted in shock at my sudden movements and then her mouth dropped wider and more bubbles rose to the surface at a more rapid pace. She was screaming.

  With her mouth hanging open, I could see the sharp, jagged teeth set inside her mouth. It was terrifying.

  I backed away but stared at the mermaid girl desperately. I needed her. She was my ticket to making it big and having my name put in the newspapers and eventually, history books. I could see it now–“At the age of 19, Lexi Givens, a college student majoring in Marine Biology, stumbled across a mysterious creature that is what we would refer to a mermaid.” – Okay, maybe not like that, but it would be nice to see my name forever immortalized somewhere and not just on Facebook.

  Another light bulb worthy idea flashed through my head. What if I found more than one? Then I would be legendary. The plan was forming faster than I could react. If I set her free, she would be grateful, wouldn’t she? Maybe she would lead me to where her family or friends were. I had to let her go.

  Once again, I surged toward the girl. Again, she started panicking, with her fish tail smacking against the water madly and her baring her teeth at me.

  “Please stop,” I pleaded. “I’m not going to hurt you, I want to help you!” Then I realized she couldn’t hear me. Finally, taking Physical Science in the ninth grade finally did me some justice. The sound waves weren’t transferring from the air to the water. So, I took a deep breath and used the quickest and most efficient solution, I plunged underwater.

  She was still screaming. The salt water burnt my eyes. It stung with a vengeance, but I needed her to be able to see into my eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said gently in a watery voice, squinting my eyes to try and reduce the sting. “I’m trying to help, to free you from the net.”

  She stopped screaming for a moment, her eyes now looked more like seaweed then emerald but still had the same affect. A shiver found its way down my spine. I resurfaced and moved toward her again. This time, she stayed still and silent.

  Examining the net, it seemed that she had gotten her hands twisted into it. I’m not quite sure how she managed this and wasn’t able to cut herself free. Her nails had to be two inches long each and razor sharp, just like her teeth. I frowned at it, a pucker forming between my brows. First, I stuck my flashlig
ht between teeth and bit down to hold it in place. It tasted like salt water. I hesitantly reached out and touched her scaly hand. She did, in fact, feel like a fish…

  I wrapped my small hand around her thin wrist and tugged on it lightly. Her hands were tangled in pretty well. I used one hand to hold her left wrist away from the right and used my other hand to work the thick ropes of the net off her fingers. I tried my hardest to stay away from her claws but failed to no avail. I cut my hands several times while trying to free her.

  I pursed my lips and looked at them thoughtfully. I had to go about this as if I were untangling a necklace. I stared hard at the net, trying to find a starting place. When I did, I worked with bother her hand and the ropes, disentangling them. Approximately ten minutes later, one hand was free and she used it to slice the ropes away from her other one.

  The green girl gazed at me for a moment before she rose from the water and took my face between her hands. My back stiffened. She whispered, “Siren,” and pulled away harshly. Her nails raked across my face, causing me to cry out in pain. My flashlight dropped and sank to the sea floor. Seconds later, there was a sting in my shoulder. Shifting my gaze down, her jaw was clamped there.

  I screamed, an ear piercing sound that should’ve alerted anyone within a mile radius. The mermaid disconnected from me and made a splash as her body connected with the water. She grabbed for my legs and tried to dig her claws into the tender flesh of my ankles. I jumped back from her reaching hands, wading through the water trying to escape her. I stumbled and fell back into the water, smacking my back off of it. The salt water burned in my wounds. My head was underwater long enough to hear her cry, “Siren!” again. I didn’t understand, though. Why did she keep saying “siren”? I didn’t hear any sirens, though that would’ve been nice at the time.

  I tried to keep the panic off my face as I fled into shallower water. But I was beginning to feel woozy from blood loss. I could feel the warm, sticky blood running down my arm and neck. My breathing was erratic and shallow as I finally stumbled onto the sand.

  “Siren!” she wailed, staring at me from where she was propped on her arms with her tail still in the water. “Siren!” She reached for my leg again.

  I pulled it back, biting back another shriek. “Go away!” She frowned. “Leave me alone!”

  “Siren,” she whimpered. Her tail fin slapped the water.

  “G-get away from me,” I practically begged.

  The mermaid’s displeased expression deepened. She started moving away from me. “Ah bay beck, Siren.” She sank completely into the water and with on last glance my way, she disappeared into the shadowy waters.

  I let out the breath I had been holding. I was so afraid. I was in so much pain. I couldn’t go to a hospital… I didn’t want to be admitted to the psych ward for explaining what had happened. Yeah, I got attacked and mauled by a mermaid. Actually, I didn’t think the bite mark was that bad. All I’d have to do was dump some rubbing alcohol on it and bandage it up. I would do the same for the cuts on my face…

  I trekked back across the dunes to find my bag. Luckily it was still sitting there. I swung it up over my uninjured shoulder and started the excursion back to my hotel. I was staying in the cheapest hotel I could’ve found. It was less than a mile from the beach so it wasn’t exactly oceanfront.

  The walk back was longer than I had expected it to be. But my limbs were heavy, my thoughts were flitting every which direction, and my brain was working its hardest to fight off my body’s need to pass out. Once I finally stumbled into the lobby of my hotel, it was deserted.

  The wound in my shoulder had clotted by this time so I wasn’t dripping blood everywhere. My face was still bleeding profusely though but it was soaking into my shirt. When the doors to the elevator closed behind me, I let out the deep breath I had been holding. It had been one crazy night.

  Back in my room, I took out the small first aid kit my mom had forced me to pack. She said that things always went wrong at the most inconvenient times. I had never been so happy that I had listened to her. I pulled out the alcohol wipes, big cotton bandages, and medical tape.

  I cleaned the wound on my shoulder quickly, smeared Neosporin on it, and covered it with bandages. My face was easier. I only cleaned it and covered it in the Neosporin. Then, I went to bed without a shower. I stripped off my clothes, changed into something more comfortable, and flopped down into bed. I fell asleep almost immediately.