Fear the Waves [A Twisted Wonderland Fanfic]

Prologue

September 5th

Father went out today again. Looking for pearls. I wonder if there are any left in the harbour. It seems that he has collected them all, though I know that the molluscs always make more. Or is it molluscs... now that I am writing this I can't be sure. Father never tells me much about his journeys. Only when something goes wrong does he tell me what happened. Father loves to warn me about the dangers of the depths.

Once he told me that he saw a mermaid. Or merman. He couldn't tell. I'm not sure I believe him. I've never seen a mermaid in all my life, and I've spent nineteen years by these waters. Mother never saw one. My grandparents never saw them. Father is the only one to claim that he has. I guess that must mean something, right? He's usually pretty honest about what he's seen in the water. But he was underwater, and I know that the water can play curious tricks on the mind. 

For eighteen years, possibly nineteen, Father has been warning me about the dangers of the ocean. Sirens, mermaids and mermen, all of whom would love to drag me underneath the waves. Pirates that seek out treasures of all sorts. I think the pirates scare Father more. There seems to be no end to his stories of the dangerous men and women aboard those galleons. 

Recently, Father has been telling me stories of mermaids and mermen with magic abilities. He says that I need to stay away from the water at all costs. He rarely lets me go down to collect shells or sea glass anymore. Maybe he's just a little more protective because of Mother's death. It was seven years ago, but I still think he feels her loss more than anyone else in the family. He says that it was true love. I still have yet to figure out if true love even exists. 

Anyways, I hope Father will come home soon. I am bored sitting in our little cottage all by myself. You would think that a man this fearful of the sea would build the house further away from the water, but no. Our house stands on the cliff overlooking the ocean, far enough away that I can only smell the distant smell of the salty water, but close enough that we can still see the rocks that Mother and I used to play in. 

Mother's favourite things down there were the tide pools. She and I would spend hours looking at the beautiful creatures that were trapped there by the waves and tides. She always called me her little coral. She loved the sea as much as Father. They say that her spirit still lurks in the wake, watching me from the froth that crashes on the shores. I would like to believe them. 

I know that Father told me not to go down to the beach, but I am too bored here. I've picked all the wildflowers I can, and the rest have died. Sadly, my family was one of few who were not born with magical abilities, so I cannot bring the flowers back to life. Maybe that's why Father fears the mermaids so much. They have magic. We do not. 

Maybe I'll go down to the beach, or maybe I'll collect some more shoots of long grass. Hopefully, then Father can sell them in the market when he returns.