Every time I remember what happened, everything melts away, replaced by that day’s shadows, and I walk through them every time.
I wake up to an empty room and a stinging, naked body. My mind blurs together half-formed images and laughing voices. I smell sweat and something metallic. I sit up and gasp. My whole back stings. I gently reach up a hand and touch it.
My fingers are covered in dark red flecks.
I think back to last night. My mind begins taking the half-formed images and laughing voices. It puts them together.
“Hey,” I say as I open the door.
A girl, no, a woman, is standing on the other side, tall, shapely, with bright orange hair and blue eyes. She smiles at me.
“Hey yourself, ya handsome fella.”
The scene plays out further. I see the night drag on. We laugh together, talk together, share together, but then something… something happens. She turns on me, or I tell her no. I take a drink and start to feel faint. I see a little more and…
Oh, God.
I remember what happened.
I touch my crotch first. It’s covered in something crusty and dry. I feel sick to my stomach. I can feel her nails on my back, digging into me, whispering insults into my ear, degrading me, my body too weak to move, my mind groggy with something she gave me, her lips against my skin, her legs around my waist, her… her…
I thought I could love her.
Then she proved I wouldn’t.
I get off the bed by rolling. My chest hits the floor. My breath is caught in my throat. I feel sick. I want to vomit. My hand blocks my mouth. I gag and manage to swallow what tried to come out. I can taste it. Hot tears are running down my face. I stand up, my body still sore, and run to the shower. I get in, turn it on, and start scrubbing myself all over, my chest, my back, especially my groin. No matter how much I scrub, the filth still clings to every part of my body, like microfilm on water.
When I’m done, I’m sitting in the living room, staring at the wall. My phone is beside me. There are tons of messages on it. All from my friends. All variations of the same thing.
They’re happy for me. That I finally… got some.
I turn off notifications.
I want to tell them the truth, but my mind won’t let it. If I do, they won’t believe me. I can’t believe it. Do I sit here in silence? Do I just wait for it all to end?
No. I need to just… disappear. As I stare at the wall, I notice what’s beside it. The window, blinds drawn, a rolling blue blanket beyond it.
I’ve always loved the ocean. I can hear it now, calling to me. Waves crashing against the sand, water trickling into tide pools, and beyond those beaches, an open, empty expanse where human eyes fail and light slowly fades before the bottom.
Out there… no one will find a thing.
I think about just walking into the waves, but they wouldn’t be sure. No. I need something else. I check my bank account. Just enough for one ride. Alright.
One last ride.
Reaching the docks is a serene trip. For the last time, I take in the sight of the buildings, the paved streets, and the other people around him, on their phones, reading books, talking to each other, ignoring me. They don’t even look at me. I wonder if they’ll remember my face or not. I doubt anyone will care. By tomorrow, I’ll be just another lost name in the newspaper. I don’t care.
The docks stand over the Pacific Ocean, and beside it are countless boats for rental. I pick one at random and pay the man in full on the spot. It leaves me effectively broke, but that doesn’t matter anyway.
There are paintings on some of the boats. They’re fish in the shape of women, with alluring eyes, sparkling scales, and long, reaching fingers. I can feel them on my skin, roughly dragging across every part of my body.
My body convulses briefly. I feel like I need to throw up. Bile rises in my throat. I force it back down. Then I step onto the boat and cast off.
I thought I’d just jump off the moment I hit the water, but as I keep going, the coast shrinking away and the ocean swelling over it, serenity overtakes me. I just keep going and going, not stopping, taking the boat well past the agreed limits. The Coast Guard will probably be sent after me, but that will likely take hours. I don’t know. It’s all guesswork.
When the coast is finally gone, I stop the boat, step out of the cabin, and see something so beautiful it shows me how small my whole life has been.
The purity of the ocean. Blue, grey, black, green, white, blended into a transparent block. I can taste the salt, I can smell it, and it’s the most amazing thing either of those senses has ever felt. I sit there for hours. I begin to grow hungry, my throat is parched, but I ignore it all. Even as the sun sets, I sit and watch it go. It’s the last time it’ll ever see me.
I pull out my phone. I scroll through the text messages. They’re all from my friends. I gently caress the screen, scrolling through the late-night conversations, the endless back and forth, the small inside jokes, an entire life contained within this block of circuitry.
I spot something, hidden in the swell of texts. A new message. I check it.
It’s from her.
I open it.
Why’d you have to be so difficult last night?
I stand up. Drawing back my phone, I send it overboard. It disappears into the darkness, shining briefly before dipping into the water. I’m shaking from head to toe, and suddenly race over to the side. The bile finally comes out, dumping into the water below. I cough, trying to clear my throat, then a second torrent comes thundering out, and then a third, then a few droplets.
I wipe my mouth and look out over the dark ocean.
It’s waiting for me.
I take a deep breath. My hands tighten on the railing.
“Human.”
My eyes snap open.
The voice is soft, feminine, and melodious, and it rings between my ears like a bell. I turn around to discover I am still the only person on this boat.
“I see you.”
A shape has emerged from the water. It glows in the night, fluorescent dots of blue light running down her body, illuminating her face and shoulders. A headdress of thin membrane runs down from the scalp. Her face is shaped like a heart, her neck thin and willowy, and when she smiles, rows of sharp, pointed teeth glint in the moonlight. Black slits stretch from top to bottom over two sapphire eyes.
“Come into the water, human,” she sings, “I’m so lonely.”
I’m not an idiot. I know what she means. My heart begins thundering in my chest, my entire body freezes up, and I feel like vomiting again.
Then another head breaks the surface. And another. Then more. My eyes grow wide as countless heads surface, each one a nearly identical copy of the other. They smile at me with razor-sharp teeth, singing in perfect harmony.
“Come on in, human. Come in and join us.”
Vague impressions filter through my head. I begin shuddering. I try to think of my friends. And then remember why I’m here.
I take a deep breath and put a foot on the railing. The fish-women begin singing playfully, chirping, and clicking their teeth together in breathless anticipation.
A scream broke the song. I was at the edge of the boat, one foot already reaching over the edge when it slapped me in the face. The scream was quickly joined by others. The women in the water began to shriek and disperse. I fell back, landing on my tailbone. I grunted at the pain, then stopped, eyes wide.
A massive black fin was breaking the surface of the water. It was quickly joined by two others. The women in the water ducked beneath the surface - just before the black fins dived as well. For a moment, everything is still - then a white spray rocketed upward as a giant black and white beast lunged out of it, a limp, ragdoll woman with scales instead of skin hanging from its mouth. I saw her face. Our eyes met. She began to shriek, slapping at the mouth of her captor.
The orca swung and threw her through the air. She sailed through it, soaring, screams falling from her lips. Another orca broke the surface and grabbed onto her midsection before crashing into the water, silencing her.
Another woman jumped out of the water, then a giant black and white head broke and slammed into her. She suddenly went limp, then her stunned face disappeared into a raw, pink maw.
The scent of blood began to fill the air. I peered over the edge.
A tail broke the surface, sending another woman into the air. Bone ripped themselves out of her arm and abdomen. She screamed until another orca clamped its jaws onto her head, before vanishing back into the ocean. In the distance, a colossal body lunged out of the water and slammed into a smaller shape, pushing it back under. A conical head sent a woman sailing through the air, then another tail smacked her back into the water. I could hear them screaming, those voices which had sung so softly for me a moment ago.
The ocean had turned to a deep red. Pieces of flesh and bone were floating in the water. A limp, headless body floated past. Yellow teeth in a black and white mouth latched onto the leg, began swinging it around like a rag, and threw it away, letting it land with a plop in the water.
Then was a blur of motion and then one of the women burst through the surface, her eyes wide with fear and looking right at me. An orca snapped at the spot she’d just been in, then swung its tail. It didn’t connect, reminding me of some massive slug.
They were toying with her.
She dived under again, and I watched the orca dive under, followed by another and another. In a second, the blood-filled water’s surface was empty of anything living.
I leaned over the edge, trying to see anything.
Then a webbed hand burst out in a spray of white, grabbing onto the railing. Pulling herself after it was a woman with scaled skin. I skirted back, landing on my back again and staring with short, frightened breaths. She landed on the boat with a wet plop.
I was frozen by the sight of her. Her hair was as green as seaweed, with a few strands in it, and there were gills on her neck. Small, hook-like claws tipped her fingers. She was breathing heavily, then looked over at me with those massive slit pupils. Her lip is bleeding.
The boat rocked sharply, and the high-pitched whining laughter of an orca drifted upward. My body swings violently with the motion.
“Please,” it says, “help me.”
My body goes tight.
A wave washes upward as the orcas cackle at each other, spraying water over the prow. The sea-green girl shakes off balance and then grabs a handlebar before looking up at me again. Eyes still pleading. The boat rocks violently and a high-pitched squeal rings in my ears.
A massive black shape suddenly lunges upward into the air beside us, salt water rolling off its body. White oval spots on the side of its head glare at trembling prey and a wide pink mouth opens, hissing eagerly before sinking below. A spray of water comes tumbling out a second later, washing over her and sending her careening toward me. She stumbles onto all fours, crawling toward me.
“I’m begging you,” she sobs, “please.”
I close my eyes, race forward, grab something rough and scaly, then hurl her into the cabin. I shut the door, and hear it lock.
As I open my eyes, I can hear an intense cackling, then something slams into the boat. Water comes rushing over the side again. Another impact, and more water over the edge. It splashes over me, and I shudder. The orcas cry and call, slamming into the boat, begging me to let her out. With each demand, more water is propelled over the side.
I lost count of how many times.
The next thing I know, warm light is hitting my face. When I open my eyes, I’m gasping for air. I blink, cast my hand’s shadow over my eyes, and look out at the light blue sky. I grunt, body aching and cold, then look behind me.
The door is open.
I stumble to my feet, taking a few steps toward the edge, then stop.
The water’s clear. No torn remains floating in the waves, nothing. I wondered if I’d dreamed it.
Then, in the distance, I see something breach the surface. I squint my eyes, making out the form of a head, undeniable even at this distance. I can feel her looking at me. My eyes widen for a moment, my mouth falling open.
Then she sinks back down, and I’ve never seen her again.
The Coast Guard found me later. They’d been searching for hours by that point. I didn’t tell them what happened. I just said I wanted a ride and must have gotten lost. Not sure if they believed me, but they would have found the truth less believable.
I went home. I didn’t talk about it, or the event before it. I just sat in my room and… well. My friends did check up on me. They’d been the ones to alert the Coast Guard. I’m not sure they knew what happened with her, but I don’t want to know. I can’t tell them either.
I can’t tell anyone what happened because nobody would ever believe that it happened. Least of all myself.