The waves sound heavy against the cold stone of the lighthouse and break against the pointy and sharp rocks that reach high into the air. It is night. The sea is restless. Even now, despite it being dark outside, the waves are visible.
They shimmer blue, green, yellow and red against the blackness of the sky.
Her gaze is fixed on it. She could not pull her eyes away from the water. There is something hypnotic about it. About its rhythmic sound. About the way that it crashes. Like thunder.
But as dangerous as one would see it, she found comfort in it.
Her water is dirty, polluted, and tastes bitter.
The water down there is clean. It is fresh and pure.
And yet it is out of her reach.
The view from her tank is sickening. Reminding her constantly of what she desires but can't have.
She needs to breath. Her water is dirty.
The air smells of salt and rot.
The door opens, a heavy creaking noise. The rain is hitting hard against the window.
A man steps inside. Her man. The lighthouse keeper.
"Gruesome weather, aye?" he says, coming to the tank with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trousers.
Yes. Gruesome weather.
But yet it means nothing.
He has everything he wants. He does not feel it.
She needs to feel the air and water on her face. She needs to feel that adrenaline. The fear, the excitement.
Being able to swim fast and wherever she wanted.
She craves feeling alive. So she would stay still, watching the ripples and the bubbles in her tank. And she would not move.
Not even when he stands right before her tank. The light flickers dimly. Only the little oil lamp that he brought into the room is lighting up their faces.
"You are as pretty as every, my dolphin.", he says.
There is silence. Except for the rain and the wind.
Not a word leaves her lips. She can not speak even if she wanted to.
She stares into his eyes.
Where she once saw a lover in them, only a stranger now lookes back at her.
Empty and meaningless.
There is no emotion to be seen in those dark eyes. It is not hatred or lust.
Not love.
It is just emptiness.
His gaze lingeres for another moment before he decides, he looked at her for long enough.
Bored now.
Having seen her beauty this often, he got used to it.
She is not special anymore.
He turns around. Goes out the door without another word. He closes it behind him. She hears the bolts slide back into place.
The wind is banging against the window.
She feels alone.
Yet again her gaze travels back out of the window, down to the water. She can not get there.
She would pierce herself up on those stones before the water would welcome her.
"I would die for you.", it was the lighthouse keeper in her memory, holding her delicate hands in his rough ones. His smile that day had been so bright. So gentle. So guiding.
He promised her the world and put her into a tank.
The water is dark, and rough and dangerous. And yet.
She promises herself freedom.
Dirty water splashes.
The window shatteres with a swing of her fish tail. Glass pierces her skin. It is hot. It stings. It hurts. She feels it.
She is falling.
Towards the water.
Towards the rocks.
Pain.
Then nothing.
She is free.
YOU ARE READING
The tide rises. The tide falls. And once again she weeps
Short StoryThis is a really short story about a mermaid and her lighthouse keeper. ------------- It's 6:53 am. It came to me in a dream. I had to put it into written words.
