The Siren. Kiera Cass
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but a lie. At least, like this, someone saw us live. Though, for me, it felt less like being seen and more like being viewed.
When we got to the house, I didn’t bother to take off Elizabeth’s dress before running out the back door and hopping into the water.
Kahlen! The Ocean surged around me, welcoming and calm.
You wouldn’t believe the night I just had.
Tell me everything. I drew up a mental picture of Her resting Her chin on Her hand, hanging on my every word.
Miaka and Elizabeth like going to clubs, these places where people drink and dance. They’ve been telling me to get out more, so I finally went with them.
I can’t imagine you doing that.
Neither could I. Which is why I was uncomfortable the entire time. I’m so happy to be back here. You’re nice and quiet.
Her waters stirred in something close to laughter. We don’t have to talk at all if you don’t want to. I’m happy just to hold you.
I sank down, resting on the sandy Ocean floor, legs crossed and arms behind my head. I watched the trails of boats crisscrossing and fading along the surface above me. Fish swam by in schools, not spooked by the girl on the ground.
So, about six months? I asked, my stomach twisting.
Yes, barring some natural disaster or man-made sinking. I can’t predict those things.
I know.
Don’t start worrying about that yet. I can tell you’re still hurting from the last time. She wrapped me in sympathy.
I lifted my arms as if I was stroking Her, though of course my tiny body was unable to truly embrace Hers. I feel like I never have enough time to get over a singing before the next one comes. I have nightmares, and I’m a nervous wreck during the weeks leading up to it. My chest felt hollow with misery. I’m afraid I’ll always remember how it feels.
You won’t. In all My years, I’ve never had a freed siren come back to Me demanding that I fix her memories.
Do You hear from them at all?
Not intentionally. I feel people when they’re in Me. It’s how I find new girls. It’s how I listen for anyone who might suspect the true nature of My needs. Sometimes a former siren will go for a swim or stick her legs off a dock. I can get a peek at their lives, and no one has remembered Me yet.
I’ll remember You, I promised.
I could feel Her embracing me. For all eternity, I’ll never forget you. I love you.
And I love You.
You can rest here tonight, if you like. I’ll make sure no one finds you.
Can I just stay down here forever? I don’t want to worry about hurting people unintentionally. Or disappointing my sisters. Aisling has her cottage, so maybe I could build a little house down here out of driftwood.
She ran a current down my back gently. Sleep. You’ll feel differently in the morning. Your sisters would be lost without you. Trust Me, they think it all the time.
Really?
Really.
Thank You.
Rest. You’re safe.
I held the baby close to me, trying to get her to stop crying.
“Shh,” I urged, hoping my voice would somehow comfort her instead of cause her more pain.
“It’s okay,” I whispered as she thrashed in my arms. The streams of tears from her eyes grew denser and faster, until water was pouring from her. Then her cries became gargles as water flooded from her mouth as well.
I shook in horror watching her drown from the inside out.
I jerked awake, forgetting I was underwater and feeling as if I were drowning as well. I screamed in spite of myself.
You’re safe, Kahlen! You’re safe!
I clutched my hands around my throat and chest, terrified until I understood who was speaking to me and that what She said was true.
I’m sorry. I had a nightmare.
I know.
I sighed. Of course She knew.
Go to your sisters. As much as I love having you with Me, you need to be on land. You need sunlight.
I nodded. You’re right. I’ll visit again soon.
I pushed myself toward the surface, trying to conceal how deeply I wanted to be free from Her watery hold now. It was hard to balance that with how desperately I had wanted to hide in Her only hours ago.
I climbed onto the floating dock just in time to see the sun break through the clouds. I stood there, trying to unknot my feelings. Fear, hope, worry, compassion … there was so much going on in my heart, I felt paralyzed. Aisling wanted me to get out of my routine. Elizabeth and Miaka wanted me to get out of my comfort zone. I sensed none of that could happen until I could get out of the mess I was inside.
I walked up the stairs and back into the house. Elizabeth was home, still clad in her little black dress, her shoes left sloppily by the door. She was laughing with Miaka, drinking a coffee she’d bought on the way home, buzzing from the night before.
They both turned to the sight of me walking through the doorway, and Elizabeth’s face immediately fell.
“Please don’t tell me you got in the water in that dress!”
I looked down at the droplets pooling on the floor. “Umm, yeah, I did.”
“It’s dry-clean only!”
“Sorry. I’ll replace it.”
“What’s wrong?” Miaka asked, seeing past everything else to my misery.
“Just more bad dreams,” I confessed, peeling off the dress. I needed something softer, warmer. “I’m okay. I think I’m going to curl up with a book.”
“We’re here if you want to talk,” Miaka offered.
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”
I walked back to my room, not wanting to hear Elizabeth relive her latest conquest. Though I really had no desire to get back into water, I kind of wanted to wash the sea salt smell off my skin. As much as I could anyway.
“Why does she even bother sleeping?” I heard Elizabeth ask quietly. “You’d think by now she’d stop trying. We don’t need it.”
I paused, waiting to hear Miaka’s response. “She must have a really wonderful dream often enough to make the bad ones worth it.”
I closed the door all the way, hung Elizabeth’s dress out my window, and let the spray of the shower cloud out everything else.
I flipped through my scrapbooks, searching. Finally, on a page for a sinking that was maybe twelve years old, I found the face of the baby in my dream. The Ocean assured me that I wouldn’t remember any of this, so why did the faces linger with me now? Elizabeth would say it was because I insisted on documenting it all, but I knew that wasn’t it. At least, not completely.
I’d made a rule for myself not to look at people’s faces while the sinkings happened, but I failed more than I cared to admit. It was hard to ignore the people calling out for us to save them. Sometimes I’d see someone and then never find a public record of them. No obituary or blog or anything. I knew those faces as well as I knew the ones in my books.
Sometimes I wondered if I was broken, which worried me as much as any of our singings. If I could remember the tens of thousands of people I’d killed, how would I possibly survive my life after being a siren?
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