In another world I would be smaller, I wouldn’t have 155 pounds of muscle fit for an athletic boy but not a pretty little lady.

I wouldn’t have cystic acne, dots and humps thriving on my face until evicted with a small needle and some witch hazel, only to return days later.

I wouldn’t have so many mental blocks that I can’t reach my real potential in the sport I love.

I wouldn’t be mixed, I would be a cute petite white girl with blonder hair, blue eyes, and no bulging muscles insight. I would get the boys with a cute wink of my long lashes and a little smile.

I wouldn’t have a ghoulishly morbid sense of humor and an obsession with serial killers and mummies.

I wouldn’t feel the need to establish dominance over everyone who challenges me.

I wouldn’t be clumsy and awkward in my big shouldered form.

I would be supermodel tall or baby doll small. I wouldn’t be 5′4″ with the legs and shoulders of someone at least a lovely 5′11″.

In my perfect world, which sadly isn’t this one, I wouldn't have been bullied for these things.

I would think a little extra is just that, extra.

I wouldn’t be jealous of my best friends all the time with their long thin forms and smooth faces.

I would think myself beautiful.

I would think that my long legs and curly hair seductive and exotic.

I would admire my freckly face and large chocolate brown eyes.

I would flex in the mirror every morning and smile at myself as I leave, cause I look good.

I wouldn’t let those who challenge me get under my skin.

My sense of humor would be the amazing anchor point of my intriguing and complex personality.

But sadly, I don’t live in that world.

After a long day at work I came home and found the note.

-Don’t hold dinner for me, I’m pulling an all-nighter at work.

With a quick look out the window, I confirm the setting sun. Hmm. Father’s out for the night, so no one will miss me if I’m gone. I run a hand over my legs, which are prickly with scales. Time to do what I do best.

I drive to a ledge that overlooks Darrow’s Inlet, strip out of my jeans and tee. Standing at the edge I look grimly into the water. “Here goes nothing.” With the grace of someone well practiced, I jump.

There’s a great splash as my body plunges into the ocean. Adrenaline shoots through me as total submersion equals a temporary transformation, molding my legs into a tail, and soothing my shimmering scales. Saltwater courses through my veins and the waves call to me saying; Come. You belong here. I swim out into open ocean.

Perching on a rock I wait. Seagulls sqauwk above and in the murkiness below my fins, sharks eye me with suspicion. I wave my hand to shoo them off and a boat comes into view. I straighten up, attentive, ready to perform the Song with all the skill I posess. Precision is important if you want the enchantment to bind. You must pick the moment the ocean is at its strongest, which is right after sundown.

The sun dips below the horizon like a fire extinguished, and I begin.

"Ah ah ah. Ah ah ah. Ah lou la ah." The boat shifts its course, enticed by my Song.

"Ah na na la na. Lou la na ah na la."

I have lured it in. Now the ocean takes over. The waters rise up, engulfing the ship. I want to see it go down, I want to see terror on the crew's faces as they meet with their fate. But I can't endure it. Turning my gaze to the sky, I realize it is night. Father, on occasion, will tell me that it is easier to succumb to darkness during the night, because you think no one sees what is done in the shadows.

"Oceana!"

I whip around, and scream as I lock eyes with the man aboard the doomed ship.

"Father!"

A final tidal wave swallows the vessel whole. No. No he can't be-

"No!"

I dive down, swimming farther and farther until I reach the depth's. But its no use.

He is gone.

I ran out of paper just as the sun dipped down below the horizon. And I felt the words spin and twirl around my fingertips, begging me to release them. But the light was dying, and I had nowhere to spill the ink. I let my eye lids drop heavy, stopping my eyes from soaking in the moonlight. Stars flickering overhead in a gentle push and pull with the waves crawling up onto the shore. And as my mind crashes into slumber, I look up into a dim chandelier. I hear light, twinkling notes catching on the air. Crystals playing iridescent prisms across the massive expanse of a ballroom. I sway in time with the slight rocking of the room. Gauzy, white tulle wraps my body and flows gently, grazing the water that reaches for my ankles. My bare feet meet the hardwood floors just as my eyes take in the flood pouring out from under the doors surrounding the room. It’s salt water drowning me fast. And I have to let my story out before it creeps up my frame. So I dig my nails deep into flesh. I carve the words and fill them with left over ink. My skin the only place to record my truth. My veins scrawling perfect penmanship down my arms and legs. My ribs covered in thoughts. Careening script across my clavicles and my sternum. And the water flooding faster. Reaching ever closer. Memories digging themselves up and covering my throat as I lift my chin to steal a last breath into my water logged lungs. And I wake just before dawn. I wake in the ocean. Salt stinging my wrists as the blood pools.

Can’t tell if my eyes are opened or closed

I try to remember the maroon and the gold

But after the sun sets, there’s not much to hold

I’m tucked in tightly as nightmares impose

I lay here thinking

That the sun will always rise

That the heavenly colors

Will shower my eyes

But I’m still here shrinking

In my late night thoughts

Each corner of the room

Is a demon I’ve fought

A nightly routine

Of getting lost in my mind

The ringing of the quiet

Really slows down time

Will I awake tomorrow,

If I close my eyes?

Or will my last thought be,

About the way that I die?

The shooter kicked the door open and we all screamed. Everet wept in my arms as he winced with pain from the stray bullet. I wiped away my tears expecting them to be my last, but the shooter grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the classroom. He pulled me through my teacher's blood, through the shattered glass on the floor, and the bullet casings. I caught a glimpse of my classmates, the ones that were alive, and they watched me leave with horror in their eyes. I had managed to send my mother an "I love you" message when I heard the first gunshots. Just like in the drills before we locked the door, turned the lights out and got under our desks. But the shooter was a student, and he knew the drill. I didn't know where he was taking me or why he chose me, but he lifted my limp body and put it in the trunk of what I guessed to be his car. I heard yelling behind me, and two more gunshots. The shooter grabbed his gun and swung it around, but another shot was fired and this time it penetrated his skull. His blood stuck to my face, I inhaled with my mouth because of all the blood that covered my nose. I screamed, cried, and yelled. I was touched gently by a large hand, the blood was wiped away from my eyes and I saw a man with a helmet on that read "SWAT." I cried with releif and jumped into his arms. Time flew by fast, before I could take another breath I was placed into an ambulance and driven away. I opened my eyes to see the white walls of a hospital, and I was surrounded by my family, it was everything but peaceful. My father was screaming, my mother crying, the doctor yelling, and I, panicking. My eyes bounced around the hallway looking for something to find peace in. The painting of a flower zoomed by, a nurse wearing a blue shirt passed me, and the voices of my family faded away. I opened my eyes again and saw a mask approach my mouth, I took one deep breath and blinked long enough to have a nightmare. My heavy eyelids opened reluctantly, and again I was accompanied by my family, this time peaceful. Mother looked at me endearingly and touched my face, "I love you too." I wanted to form words but my mouth wouldn't allow it, I tried to lift my hand but my arm said no. I laid in the presense of many but touched by one. I looked up to see a metal cover over my bed, and I looked down to see nothing but a sheet. I took another breath and the sheet was placed over my face. I wanted to scream again, "No! I am alive! It is November 5th 2018 and I am alive!" My bed suddenly felt like cold metal, and soon the coldness spread throughout my body, my eyes got heavier and I exhaled one last time. I heard a door open and the fading sound of muffled crying. "Please don't leave me here," I whimpered. I didn't want to die, in fact tomorrow would have been my first time to vote, I was so excited. I hope Everet is ok, there was so much blood, perhaps some of it was mine... Perhaps all of it was mine.

Blue skies,

Soothing my soul.

White clouds,

Lifting my spirits.

Green trees,

Giving me shelter.

Brown rocky mountains,

Standing guard.

Bouquet of flowers,

In all hues of colours,

Red, yellow, purple and pink,

To delight and dilute,

The grim gray.

And with a soft gentle breeze,

The nature caressing all my woes.

Howard, once thought to be mellow,

was considered a coward, ever yellow.

Green would be the thoughts of Bengi,

my dog wanting attention, ever so envy.

The color of brown both smile and frown,

doesn’t look good on a laughless clown.

Fred was dead,

and around him the blood ran a deep red.

Purple?

Think odd terms such as pancakes with maple surple.

To make love work, there should be a person times two,

without it, the private world can grow cold and icy-blue.

There is an essence of bright white.

so often in death, tis the calling from the light.

Life tends to give the human soul no slack,

and feelings of frustration leaves a mind dark, in the black.

Of all the colors, my favorite of all time;

the color of sand, it’s gravelly tan, thus ends this rhyme.