Behind the Glass (A Mermaid's Story)

Chapter Two

Anger bubbles up in my chest, disappointment with myself overflowing as my face turns the color of a rose. I have only ever seen a few rose petals float upon the surface, reached out to feel their smooth sides, but I can only imagine that right now, I am like a rose, red and floating to the surface as the people above reach out to grab me. The scales of the fish surrounding me blur my vision, dizzying my thoughts and distracting me as they move in and out of focus. How could I swim directly over a net without noticing? How could I let this happen!?'
The sharp tool in my right hand cuts into my palm as I clench my fist, crimson blood clouding the salt water and reminding me of the use of the tool. I raise the sharp object to the net that has suddenly closed around me, the top nearing the rough and frothing surface. Hacking at the knotted and thick rope, I can feel the water around me growing thinner as the air further penetrates it, the waves shoving ripples in front of my face that send me into a panic. The bubbles escaping my mouth feel, look, even seem, less steady, an underwater eruption, that peaceful safety from an hour ago forgotten in the midst of the net. Hands, hands, plunging through the veil of surface, disrupting the blurs of fish and aquatic blue that I am used to. They are greedy, reaching for my net, grasping and tugging hastily as it comes ever closer to the surface. Their voices echo through the water, muffled but frantic all the same, eager almost, and I hear one say, "What the-?", right before the net erupts above the surface. Intense movement, feeling myself bob atop the ocean, dropping my tool, backing to the bottom of the net in fear, blueness and blurs, it's all blurry now. I can hear myself shout. I can feel the icy cold air through the numbness that has flowed through me. I am thrown onto wood, the boat's deck, and the net falls around me, so I am sitting atop it, as I back away from the group of humans. Their eyes glimmer with shock as I move to the boat's edge, preparing to dive into the ocean and swim away as quickly as possible. But as I lift my hand to grab the metal, slippery rail, hands reach out and grab me, throw me into a tub of water, grab a spool of rope. My tail thrashes wildly, splashing water onto the deck and into the faces of them. A rope is strung around my wrists no matter how I struggle, a group gathering to stare down upon me, a cigarette lighting, smoke spreading, air thickening. As I sway violently from side to side, the tank crashes over, sending me shooting out where I flop helplessly. Slamming my tail against the wood, I move along the deck to the edge, almost there, my hands above me, reaching for the rail. Suddenly, I am pulled back by my tail, large splinters wedging themselves into my skin as I begin to scream, louder than I ever have. Pairs of hands reaching, grabbing my arms and slamming me down into the uprighted tank, splashing water over me as I cough and choke. The net is put over me, my vision further obstructed, it's sides tied down as I kick.
"Knock it out!" I hear a voice yell. Suddenly, a fist is coming down upon me. The last thing I hear is "Get her to the aquarium!" before the world goes dark.