A Broken Hearted Mermaid

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A Broken-hearted Mermaid.
“So this is it.” Dreama thought as she sank down in the fetid salt water. “I gave up everything for him and this is how he repays me!” She was stuck in a dirty hovel of a motel with similarly broken hearted mermaids. Each had fallen in love with human men. Each had turned their backs on everything they had known. Each was dumped when it came to consummation. It is not their fault that they have different views on this sort of thing. After all, Dreama and her kind were not completely human. The important parts are very fish like.
She sank down deeper, knowing that she could not get the full submersion she craved. Faint strains of “Sweet Home Alabama” wafted from downstairs. She started weeping. What did she care for an enigma like a soul? She would be overjoyed to be back with her family until the sea reclaimed her as foam. This cramped bathtub was no substitute for the freedom of the ocean. She despised her former lover as much as she loved him in happier times. There was a soft knock on the door. “That must be the porter to change the water.” Dreama thought as she cried “Enter!” The door opened and there stood in the doorway was the witch who had given her legs. She was not the scaly monstrosity that she appeared under water. She was a tall and handsome woman with raven black hair and plump red lips. She smiled at Dreama. “I see you’ve found out how to revert back to your original form.” She moved closer to the light and sat down on the chair making inaudible gasps every time she took a step. “I see the curse extends to you as well.” Dreama remarked dryly. “It is the nature of the magic I use. For every good effect, there is a bad effect. However I have not come here to discuss my magic. I have come here to offer you another chance at being human for a day.” “You know that I was dumped here by that coral brained bastard! Why don’t you just take my life as our original bargain?” Dreama swished her tail. “I offer something more sweet this time.” She threw a dagger on Dreama’s chest. “Revenge.” Dreama fingered the dagger delicately and her face slowly broke into a smile. The witch left without a word. Dreama placed the dagger lovingly on the floor. She slowly climbed out of the bathtub wincing with the familiar pain of walking on daggers. She picked up the dagger, grabbed the dress from the chair and left the room. Knowing and relishing what she had to do.

Created: Mar 24, 2014


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