The soft sound of rain coos at her window

Gently calling her with its peaceful lure

The rain's steady thrum envelops the girl

In warmth and tranquility, comforting her mournful soul

She leaves the windowsill and follows the song

Unable to resist the siren's call

She steps into the storm's embrace as the winds begin to howl

The rain falls harder, softening her rigid world

She tilts her face upwards as the rain pelts the ground

The water runs down her body, cleansing all that she held

She laughs as her tears mingle with the falling rain

Her soaked body trembles

She is free

“Lana,” a distant voice echoes.

The soft tone weaves into my subconscious and firmly pulls me from blissful sleep. I stubbornly shake my head and grunt as I nestle further into the pillow. Please, just a few more minutes.

“Sweetheart, wake up,” the voice persists.

A cold hand gently shakes my shoulder, but I remain unmoved, desperately clinging to the safety of sleep, hoping I can fall back into its comforting embrace.

“Lana,” the voice hardens, “It’s time.”

My eyes immediately fly open and my body twitches as if electrified. The numbing sleep-induced fog vanishes as I exhale sharply.

No.

Sheer panic floods my senses. My heart pounds against my chest like a trapped animal as a tear escapes my round eyes. What’s happening? I search my overwhelmed brain for answers, but the usually calm organ is overrun with fear. I need to leave. I attempt to sit up, but only get half way when I remember.

I am chained to the bed.

The metal cuffs are harsh against my raw skin. I look down at my skinny body and see that the long chains are entangled in my limbs, evidence of another restless night. I part my chapped lips and find myself speaking aloud.

“Why…” I pause for a moment, stunned by the small voice that escapes my lips. I swallow loudly in an attempt to lubricate my parched throat and continue speaking, “Why am I here?”

My only answer is the clink of chains. I cannot remember. I cough from the exertion of speaking, and a sudden burst of pain ignites on the left side of my ribs. I cry out softly as dark spots dance across my vision. Hesitantly, I look down at the source of the pain. The thin white t-shirt I am wearing does nothing to conceal the crimson stain. I’m going to pass out. Suddenly, a cool hand tenderly strokes my forehead.

“Shh, Lana. It’s okay,” a masculine voice speaks in a tone dripping with false comfort.

I turn my leaden head to the side and try to focus my gaze on the man. The dim lights in the small room coupled with my blurred vision give the man an otherworldly appearance. His pale skin glows against the long black robe he is wearing, and his stunning blue eyes pierce me with an icy stare.

The man momentarily removes his eyes from me and speaks to someone out of my line of vision. I carefully crane my neck to the side and see a woman in an equally odd outfit. The young woman, who is also extremely pale, has long blond hair and wears a white robe. She has the same magnificent blue eyes as the man. She looks like an angel. I gasp as the man places his hand on my shoulder again.

“Lana,” he speaks quietly, almost fatherly, “Are you ready?”

Am I ready? Ready for what? My body quakes in knowing anticipation, while my mind remains in the dark. I find myself scouring the room for clues, looking for anything that will trigger my memory. Three cream painted walls stare back at me. Quaint lacy curtains decorate a window that rests directly across from me, but newspaper covers the glass. Appropriate pictures decorate the warm walls - a couple kissing in the rain and a stallion running through a sunny field. Dark wood bookshelves and dressers are placed throughout the room as well. White candles occupy every available surface; their flickering light casts sinister shadows around the seemingly ordinary room. In addition to the candles, a dim light fixture hangs from the ceiling.

I tentatively lean back against the bedframe and find my eyes drawn to my feet. My eyes dart back and forth between the left and right foot. Something is wrong. Something is off. Something…

My eyes widen and a strangled sob rattles my throat. No. No.

I remember.

My body shakes involuntarily as I look at my left foot. My pinkie toe is gone, severed violently. Dried up blood is the only reminder of the missing digit. I begin to hyperventilate as memories from last night rush into my consciousness all at once. My hand instinctively reaches to lift my shirt where another wound from last night rests, but the man grasps my wrist firmly, instantly stopping me.

“No,” he says simply, “It must heal properly.”

The woman, who was standing silently in the corner during this interaction, steps forward and walks to my side. She kneels so she is at eye level with me and speaks.

“It must heal, Lana. Otherwise, we will have to perform the ceremony again.”

I grit my teeth as I try to move away from the seemingly angelic woman, but she simply repositions herself on the bed next to me. She places her hand on my cheek and continues speaking.

“You must be cleansed, honey. You are tainted. You know that, right?”

I look away from the woman’s uncomfortably sympathetic eyes and find the man staring at me as well. He steps forward and speaks in a low voice, reaffirming the woman’s statement.

“You are impure.”

The woman smiles sadly at me for a few moments before returning to the man’s side. She stands just behind him as he pulls out an old leather-bound book from his robes. The woman follows his suit, but instead of retrieving a book, she reveals a small knife in her right hand.

“It is time,” they both speak in unison.

I immediately tense up and the vocal cords that I thought were broken reignite. I move as far away from the deranged couple as the chains allow and scream in desperation.

“No! No! Please no! Stay away! Stay away from me!”

My shrill voice cracks with emotion as tears stream down my heated skin. The man, clearly unfazed by my pure terror, grabs the chain nearest to him and yanks it with no remorse.

My entire body pitches to the right and I cry out in agony as I land harshly on my wounded side. I vaguely hear the woman chastising the man’s rough actions, but my vision and hearing are muffled as if underwater. Suddenly large hands grab my shoulders and flatten me on my back.

“No…” I whisper weakly as I feebly try to push the man away.

The bed sinks beside and I turn to see the woman on my right. My pulse begins to race as she slowly moves my shirt up to reveal my pale stomach. I shudder when I see the cultish symbol barbarically etched into my otherwise smooth skin. The man begins reciting from the old book in an unknown language. Although I cannot understand him, the words dance across my skin like pins and needles. I shift in an effort to shake the words’ effect, but the action does not help.

“Please,” I beg, “Stop.”

The man does not pause as he sprinkles what feels like water along my skin. I hiss in pain as the liquid increases my discomfort.

“Please…” I whimper.

Something cold suddenly presses against my toe and I instantly look towards the source. I gasp loudly when I see the woman hovering over my right pinkie toe with a glistening knife. The woman meets my terror-filled eyes with concerned ones.

“We are helping you, Lana,” she whispers, “You must be cleansed.”

Suddenly, something snaps in me. Rage begins to overshadow my terror as a low growl escapes my lips. I am briefly shocked by the animalistic sound, but that shock quickly reverts back to anger. The woman’s seemingly kind eyes mask her true monstrous form. Who is she to tell me I am tainted? My entire body trembles in fury and, what feels like static, electrifies my entire being.

The woman looks at me with wide, fearful eyes and places a hand on my ankle.

“Lana. Do not succumb to the evil,” she speaks quietly.

“Get. Off. Of. Me,” I speak with energy I did not know I had.

The woman hesitantly turns to the man, but he just continues to recite the odd language. His eyes widen as he signals for her to continue her work. She nods with determination and quickly places the blade against my toe again.

“I said. Get. Off. Of. ME,” I repeat loudly.

“Now!” the man shrieks.

The woman brings the knife back.

“NO!” I scream.

I cry out as a burning rush of energy bursts from my body. For a split second I see the woman’s shocked, yet appalled eyes. The next second, her body is jerked from the bed like rag doll. She crashes against the back wall with a loud thud and falls to the ground motionless. I twitch as another bang follows and watch wide-eyed as the man’s unconscious body collapses alongside the woman.

For a few moments I remain immobile, frozen in fear, disbelief, and confusion.

I open my mouth to speak, hoping I can understand what just happened, but only a strangled squeak escapes my lower throat.

The renewed sense of energy I felt moments before vanishes. My limbs feel extremely heavy and a loud ringing sound fills the room. I look down at my arms and am surprised to see that the handcuffs have fallen off. The sturdy metal objects are splintered in half. I sway as I pick up a piece of discarded metal.

“Wha…” I barely whisper before my senses abandon me and I fall into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake with a jolt, unsure where I am. I take a few deep breaths and stare at the white ceiling. Flickering shadows dance across the blank canvas. My brow wrinkles in confusion. Candles? I sit up quickly to look around and instantly regret my decision. A stabbing sensation instantly pierces my left side and I double over in agony. Tears form in the corners of my eyes as I try to breath calmly through the pain. What is happening? I straighten my back cautiously and look down to find a red stain on my shirt. I shake my head stubbornly and instead look around the small room. My heartbeat quickens when I see discarded handcuffs and chains on the bed beside me. I hesitantly look down at my wrists and see discernable scars encircling each. Was I chained to this bed?

I take a deep breath and throw my legs over the side of the worn mattress. My knees buckle when I try to rise, but I quickly steady myself with the wall’s help. After a few moments of composure, I turn to face the room. I nearly lose my balance again when I see two still figures lying crumpled on the ground. Wha…?

Then everything comes rushing back.

I fall against the wall and place a hand over my mouth. Beads of sweat roll down my feverish skin as my vision wavers before me. A barrage of thoughts instantly floods my mind.

How did I do that? What am I? Are they dead? Am I evil? What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?

I open my mouth to vocalize these thoughts aloud, but the only words that leave my throat are, “I need to leave.”

With my mind compromised, I clumsily follow my body’s instincts. I watch my hand reach for the wooden doorknob as if it is not my own. Relief courses through my body when the usually locked door opens. I rush out of the room without hesitation, abandoning the cruel couple without a second glance.

The room opens up to a small hallway, which is connected to a descending staircase. The exit must be downstairs. I have seen glimpses of the world outside the single window in my room. I am confident that I am on the second story of the house. I rush to the staircase desperately. They could wake up any second. I grip the banister harshly as my weak legs tremble.

Once I reach the bottom of the stairs I am shocked to see a door with a window. I walk slowly towards it in a trance and apprehensively place my hand on the glass. My rapid breaths fog up the window as I look out at the vast world.

“Why is everything white?” I whisper as white particles fall from the dark sky.

Suddenly a loud creak sounds from upstairs.

Adrenaline instantly fills my veins and I open the door with such force that it bangs against the inside wall. I shudder as a blast of cold air hits me. For a moment, I freeze. My breathing quickens to the point of hyperventilation as I stare out at the never-ending landscape. What am I going to do? Another quiet, but distinct sound creaks above me. I breathe deeply and silently make my decision. With adrenaline and fear giving me strength, I sprint from my prison into the cold unknown. My entire body trembles as my bare feet come in contact with the white substance.

“It’s so cold,” I mumble through chattering teeth.

I do not look back as I run from the house. The thin t-shirt I am wearing does nothing to protect my body from the harsh winds. My bare legs and feet sink into the cold whiteness. A few lights line the empty road, but otherwise, I am in complete darkness. After many minutes of running I look back and see that I am in the middle of nowhere. The house is no longer in sight, but neither is anything else. All I see are trees, even the lights have lessened in number, and the few left are old and flickering. My body trembles violently as a sudden gust of wind envelops me. I look down at my long brown hair and see that the strands are stiff and covered with the white particles. A small pool of blood has begun to form around my left foot, leaving a dark stain in the pure whiteness. I must have reopened the wound. My deep breaths come out in labored puffs of smoke as I feel my drive weakening. I can’t run forever. I move to take another step forward when a wave of exhaustion washes over me.

“Maybe… I-I could just… rest f-for a little bit,” I mutter as my knees begin to quiver.

Just as I am about to succumb to my weariness, two bright orbs appear in the distance. My eyes widen and another burst of adrenaline pulses inside of me.

“A car…” I barely whisper.

I recognize the sound. Usually the sound signified that the man or woman was leaving. The house would fall quiet once the sound started and then faded away. I know it must be a source of transportation. Without thinking of the consequences, I rush onto the road and sprint towards the unknown vehicle. I flail my arms in the air and scream with the little strength I have left.

“Help! Please H-help!”

When I am only a few feet from the car I hear a loud screech. The vehicle slides a bit on the slippery road, but eventually comes to a stop inches from my body. I plant both hands on the hood and scream at the two dark silhouettes in the car.

“HELP ME!”

One individual places his or her hand on the other and then slowly opens the door. I look at the man in the dim light and see that he is wearing a blue uniform with a metal badge that reflects the glow from the light post. He closes the door softly and speaks with authority.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to keep your hands on the hood for a moment, okay?”

I stare at him in shock, unsure what to do. I have never interacted with another human being before. Seeing my unease, the man speaks in a more comforting tone.

“It’s going to be alright. I just need to pat you down and make sure you don’t have any concealed weapons, okay?”

I find myself nodding, even though I am not sure I fully trust this man. He approaches me cautiously and presses his hands against my sides. Even so, I groan softly when his hand comes in contact with my still tender wound. The man instantly backs away.

“I’m so sorry. May I?” he asks as he gestures to my side.

Once again, I find myself nodding. The man lifts my shirt and I watch his entire body go rigid.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath.

His eyes then fall to my feet and I watch his face morph into an appalled one. He rises slowly and puts a hand on my shoulder. I instinctively move from his reach and consider taking off right then. The man, who must sense my desire to flee, quickly puts his hands up.

“My name’s John. I’m a police officer. I can help you,” he speaks calmly.

Police? They protect, right? I try to remember if I learned about them, but my memory is hazy. Even if I did have the answer, I can barely hear my own thoughts over the chattering of my teeth and the ringing in my ears. So, once again, I concede and nod to the open man. He has a kind face.

“Come on, let’s get you in the car. It’s freezing out here,” John says as he removes his outer coat and wraps it around my shoulders.

I sag into the warmth of the clothing. My energy drains faster as I embrace the small gesture of kindness. Fortunately, with the help of John’s grip, I remain standing.

“Come on,” he whispers softly.

I follow him to the side of the car and watch as he opens the door behind his. I gratefully collapse onto the cushioned seat. I breathe in the warm interior and the little strength I have left melts away with the white particles. The car smells odd, a mixture of exotic smells I am unfamiliar with. It is wonderful. I shift my gaze forward and see another face looking through the barred window. He looks younger. There are fewer lines on his face. Though once I make eye contact with him he instantly looks away.

“Do you need anything?” John asks.

I shake my head, still too weak to verbalize my actions. John offers me a small smile and closes the door with a soft thud. Once John is seated in front of me, the other man leans in and speaks quietly.

“What’s going on, dad?”

John shushes the younger man with a wave of his hand and the car begins to move. Any other day, I would be excited and terrified as I have never been in a car before, but right now I am using all of my energy to just stay awake. I sway back and forth with the quiet lull of the car. I vaguely hear voices in the background, but I ignore them. I just want to close my eyes. I want to sleep.

“Dad, she does not look good at all. I think she’s going into shock. We need to get her to a hospital.”

“Yes, David.”

“Shit, she’s falling asleep.”

“Hey miss! Miss!”

I twitch at the loud noise and face forward.

“What’s your name, miss?” John asks.

My name? My name is… it starts with an L, right? L…

At the moment my name seems incredibly inconsequential so I ignore the policeman’s question. I would rather sleep. I look up at the fast moving landscape - just a blur of white. It is hypnotic, like a soft lullaby.

“Miss, I have to ask you to please stay awake.” John’s voice booms again, interrupting my peaceful world.

Why can’t I sleep? I return my eyes forward and see a house in the distance. My eyes widen and my body begins trembling once more.

“Dad…” the younger man speaks hesitantly.

“W-what are… you doing?” I rasp softly.

“Miss? Miss, what is wrong?” John asks quickly.

“You, you’re going… towards it. Turn around! TURN AROUND!” I cry. I can’t go back there. I can’t ever go back. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t…

“Fuck, dad. She’s hyperventilating,” a voice speaks in the distance, though I pay no attention to it. It is not my concern.

I duck down and curl into a small ball. I can’t let them see me. Never again. Never. Again.

I feel the car decelerate and my body tenses.

“Please, don’t stop,” I speak with my face pressed against my knees.

John heeds my plea and returns the car to its steady speed. I remain curled in a fetal position for the remainder of the ride, afraid to look up. Afraid I will see them again. Afraid I will be standing in front of that horrid home.

After many minutes, the car decelerates again and turns. My body slides up against the door as I chance a quick look. We are in a stone lot next to a brightly lit building. The area is considerably less white. Once the vehicle comes to a stop, John turns around and talks.

“We have another half hour until we reach the hospital. I have some medical supplies in the trunk. Can I tend to your wounds before we continue?”

How can he tend to my wounds? They have to heal on their own. Otherwise a scar will not form. Scars are necessary for the impure. What would John do if he knew I was tainted?

John sighs softly and opens the car door. The younger man does the same.

“David, please stay in the car,” John speaks wearily.

“Dad, this is what I’m studying. I can help,” the man, who must be David, responds.

I do not hear any more words spoken, but an agreement must be made because both men walk to the back of the vehicle. If I were not so weak, I would flee the car right now. The policeman has put considerable distance between them and me. Though, unfortunately, I barely have the strength to lift a finger. So, I uncharacteristically remain still.

The door to my left opens and I see the younger man peering in. He has a pleasant face. Dark curls frame his slightly tan complexion. He regards me with large brown eyes. My tense body deflates. I rarely see kind eyes. They are beautiful.

“H-hi,” David stutters, “May I see your wound, please?

I slowly bring my hand to my side and point at the red spot. I watch curiously as a determined expression falls over his features. Some color drains from his face as he takes in the purposefully crafted wound. I close my eyes as I remember the woman carving the symbol into my skin. “It will protect you,” she said. I shake my head. Can anything protect me?

“I have to touch it. I’m sorry,” David says genuinely, interrupting my thoughts, “It looks like it may be infected.”

I nod my head with my eyes still closed. I hear David breath deeply as he presses the tips of his fingers against my skin. The moment his flesh comes in contact with mine I cry out in agony. The same scalding electricity from before shoots through my body. My back arches as tears stream down my face. Alarmed voices scream in the background.

“What happened?!”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even do anything yet!”

I sob as bright images fly across my eyes.

Yellow. Fire. Flames lick the blue walls. Screams echo. Voices cry. Prayers are said. David. David’s face in the flames. David crying. David… gone.

“Don’t go!” I cry out as the awful images to continue to play out across my vision.

I search for David and find him standing behind John who is gently shaking my shoulders. I push past John with surprising strength and reach out towards David. I grip his arm and bring my face inches from his.

“D-don’t go…” I pause and breath heavily as my vision begins to darken, “D-don’t go to… Amanda’s party.”

David gasps and looks at me with horror and astonishment. A moment later, John is back on his feet and removing my fingers from David’s wrist.

“Don’t go…” I barely whisper as darkness completely consumes my vision. I am vaguely aware of someone laying me down as I grateful embrace unconsciousness.

Everywhere I go something bad happens. I am evil incarnate. That is what they always said. I am impure. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps I do not deserve freedom, but punishment. Perhaps this darkness is what I deserve. Perhaps this darkness is where I belong.

Journal of Edward

June 21, 1833

Last night was incredible. Isabelle and I went to dinner by the pier and then walked along the waves until dawn. It was just she, the ocean, and I. Her blonde curls glowed against the dark water, and her pale blue eyes shined brightly in the moonlight. She took my breath away. It has been an honor to have her in my home.

Though as lovely as last night was, there was a certain hesitation to Isabelle’s movements. She shied from my touch and grew increasingly anxious by the water. Perhaps her unease is a result of her upbringing. I often think of the morning I found her. The horrid memory will not leave…

My father wants me to continue in his footsteps - be the great mermaid hunter he is, but I do not want to. I wish to spend my years with Isabelle. Her presence has been a gift, and I have become greedy.

I think I love her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isabelle’s Diary

June 21, 1833

I must confide in you. I think I am falling for a boy. A human boy! Oh, what have I gotten myself into? His name is Edward. He saved me from those four lifeless walls… saved me from my parents.

Yes. He rescued me, but I cannot stay in his home! His father is a hunter. He is THE mermaid hunter. Edward is so kind though. Oh dear…

… I think I am in love.

Here I am again

My back is to the wall

The room is filled with chatter

Though I'm lifeless like a doll

The conversations flow around me

Hardly noticing I am there

I try to add my own words

But they're lost to the air

I fade into the background

A place I know too well

The party continues around me

And I still can't break my shell

I stand when no one's looking

Not knowing what else to do

I escape to an empty room

Embracing the solitude

The sounds are muffled now

As I slide to the floor

I drop my head in disappointment

Knowing I should have tried more

Here I am again

My back is to the wall

The room is filled with silence

And I haven't changed at all