Feminine Revenge [Ongoing]

Chapter Twelve: Published

The chaos when I left the house made it twice as worth it to have woken up. The newspapers had printed what I had laboured over so long to create. The final stage had now been executed and everything was in turmoil because of it.

Fantastic.

That was not even sarcasm. I really and truly revel in this sort of confusion and upheaval. I never like it when the wider community turns a blind eye to the odd or the tragic because it puts a crack in their pretty little image of the world. Actions have consequences whether they like it or not.

No one had bothered to investigate when Emery's ship had come floating into the harbour in all its burning destruction. They had taken a day – only a single, short day, where all the hours within had certainly not been used – to declare it a fluke and unsolvable. They had never truly tried. One baffling thing and they called it off. Only thing worse than not solving it is being called ridiculous.

Now I stood victorious. I could never flaunt that, not really. Yes, I had written the article, but I wrote it about the bigwigs. The reader never looks at the author of what they're reading either way – at least not in the newspaper but perhaps for novels – nor do they remember it long enough to link it to my face if that happen to run into me in the nearby corner store.

However, that is not what mattered to me in the end. What really mattered was the fact that it is dropped into their lap. This is their reality now. It's shifted and a little funny because the impossible just became the normal. The superstitious people now had their grounds and reason supported by the very people who ran this beautiful place.

Ah who am I kidding? This place is not beautiful in the slightest, not even in its façade. The very foundation was crumbling to the ground like the bricks on the houses. It had the chance at becoming beautiful and perhaps was already so to some. I, however, had spent too much time in the gutter and gullies. I saw the ugly buildings and the ugly side of people. It held no appeal to me. The lustre was diminished. Only at home – the place furnished with love and familiarity – did I feel any ties to this place.

Now why do we not make this even more surreal by adding in beings that should not be on this plane and now suddenly, miraculously existed for no known reason. Why now? That's another question. As unanswerable as the others. They would demand answers and they would not get one because no one knew, and that was the simple state of affairs at the moment.

I watch passively as a mother with a child in tow opens the paper and buries her nose therein for a minute before laughing out loud. A sharp, unpleasant sound that held no mirth or real joy. I smile to myself privately too in return. Mermaids. A political debate.

I am loathe to admit that perhaps I am holding a bit too much bitterness in my heart. No one here knew of it because they were shopkeepers, seamstresses, butchers, you name it. They kept up with the news out of boredom and habit, nothing else. They have no control over what comes and goes and who says what.

Yet they turned a blind eye to the burning, sinking, and otherwise destroyed ships month after month. Not to say they happened all too often. It is still noticeable to the blind eye. I know, I know. A vengeful attitude was not going to get me anywhere. I should be happy that they are finally takin note that something is terribly wrong about this all. Perhaps the average person is not yet prepared to believe in a fairy tale creature roaming our seas yet the progress towards opening their eyes is well on its way.

There I go again. Reasoning with myself as if half my minds has become Emery in his absence. He had always said we were one. A cheesy line that I have now somehow adopted and changed in a way that justifies my irrationality and constant inner dialogue.