Luna

I stir, yawn and slowly uncoil into a stretch. Blinking away the bleariness of sleep, I sit up and glance around, wondering what woke me. The light suddenly flashes on, illuminating the dim room, causing me to see spots. I squeeze my eyes shut, rub at them, and cautiously reopen them again in time to see Elizabeth set Katie down on the observation table on the far side of the room. I feel my heart swell at the sight of my friend. I have not seen her since that day in the lab room and I have only been able to hope that she is okay. I have missed her a lot and am glad to see her again.

I watch them silently from my spot in the tank. The water level comes up to my shoulders when I am sitting up, and the tank is several tail lengths long and wide. They brought me here after they took Katie away and I’m hoping to leave it soon. I miss the bigger tank, it made me feel a little more secure, and I have missed Katie’s embrace at night. I have not slept so well without her recently.

I watch a yawn split Katie’s features. Elizabeth sighs. “I don’t know why this couldn’t wait until tomorrow,” she mutters. “It’s not like we’re moving the two of you for a couple of days.”

Katie shrugs and leans her cheek on her closed fist.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Elizabeth decides. “Stay still.” She tugs at the bandages around Katie’s waist and begins to cut through them. Katie’s fin curls, flicks out again, and she shivers, shifting on the observation table. “Stay still,” Elizabeth says.

“I'm sorry, I just haven’t been able to move for the past couple of… weeks? Is that how long it’s been? I’m just fidgety.”

“Well the faster I finish, the faster you can get into the water and stretch. So stay still a little longer,” Elizabeth huffs, but her tone is light. Katie sighs and falls still. A couple of seconds later, Elizabeth is tugging the cut bandages free and letting them drift down to the floor in a small pile. She then peels back the sticky bandages on Katie’s tail and bends over it, running her hand down the purple scales. “Any pain?”

Katie shakes her head. Elizabeth pushes down with her palms.

“Still none?”

“No,” Katie agrees.

“What about your front? Any twinges?”

“No, I think it’s good.”

“Alright. But be sure to say something if that changes,” Elizabeth orders. She picks Katie up and carries her over, letting my friend’s fin dangle to dip into the water first. The she lets Katie slip free into the water. “Goodnight. Get some rest and don’t strain anything okay? Take it easy for a little bit, alright?”

Katie nods, another yawn escaping her. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Good. Goodnight then,” Elizabeth says. She turns, her gaze falling on me and she waves gently. “Goodnight, sweetie,” she coos. I sink lower in the water and she sighs softly, but leaves without saying anything else. The second she’s gone, I dart over to Katie and wrap her into a hug.

‘I missed you,’ I tell her.

She hugs me, squeezing me tightly against her. “I’ve missed you too. Have you been okay here? They haven’t been giving you a hard time, have they?”

I shake my head. ‘No, but I have been lonely. It is strange. I was used to being on my own before, but now I feel empty and frightened when you are not around. It is hard to fall asleep.’

“I’m sorry. I’ve felt the same though-” she breaks off in a yawn, which quickly leads me to do the same. Katie giggles. “Yawns are contagious,” she comments. “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

I nod in agreement, more than happy to comply, and lay down next to her. Seconds later, I roll over so I can bury my nose in her neck. She hugs me in response, her fin falling over mine, and kisses my forehead.

“I’ve missed you, little sister,” she whispers into my hair. I hug her back and relax next to her, listen as the sound of watery air passing through her gills begins to slow, deepen with slumber. Another yawn escapes me and I find sleep easily, far quicker than any other night recently.

I flick my fin, gaze lazily around the small, sandy reef. Small fish dart in and out of coral tubes and tunnels and kelp sways softly around the fringes of the reef. There are Mer too, lots of them, and they are all talking, chatting away with one another. But I cannot separate their voices, it is all just noise, just like I can see them, but I cannot describe them, not colors, genders, or physical features. I just know they are there. I swim among them, happy to be around them. They have always made me happy. I giggle, flick my fin, sigh when I do not get very far. I find myself wishing, yet again, that I was bigger, older, faster, like my cousins. Mommy says I will get faster in time; that I will grow as long as I am patient. She says that everyone else was once small like me too and had to wait patiently too. It makes me feel better, but I still wish, sometimes, that I was not so slow.

I sink down to rest on a flat rock, lay out on it, my belly rubbing against the smooth, cold surface of it. My tiny fin hangs over the edge and I lean down to doodle starfish in the sand. I love starfish, love to listen to them sing. It is so pretty and soothing. I glance around, hoping to see one, but there are none around. I curl up a little, a yawn escaping me, and close my eyes. The sunlight is nice and warm and mommy normally has me take a nap around this time. She will not mind if I drift off early…

I stretch out and sit up, glance around. There are a couple of older Mer resting several feet away, but I do not see any of my cousins, or my mommy. Suddenly wanting her, I push off the rock and swim over to the others.

“Where is my mommy?” I ask. They do not reply, do not even stir. I repeat my question and one of the Mer stirs, mumbles something I do not quite catch. I turn and scan the reef again. She could not have gone too far, so perhaps I should look for her. Maybe she took my cousins to the far reef, or is around the bend. I should check there first.

I swim as fast as I can around the bend, giggling at the thought of sneaking up on mommy. She would be so surprised, maybe even proud that I found her all by myself.

As I round the bend, a large school of salmon swims by. The fish are decently sized and quick, and I have heard my cousins boasting about catching them. I really want to catch fish too, but mommy says I am not old enough yet, that I need to get a little bigger and a little faster. But I really want to catch one.

I dart towards the school, my fin working hard to try and keep up. I arch above them, dive back down, and manage to enter the back of the school. Joy fills me. I am doing it. I reach for a fish, but the scales are slippery and I cannot keep a grip. My moment fades as the school darts ahead, throwing me from the mass of fish. I huff in frustration, but dart forward again, chase them, laughing as I feel the current they leave rush over my tail.

I manage to catch up and enter the school again, my fingers brushing the fin of the fish in front of me. I stretch, my fingers starting to close around it, when the school dissolves. Each fish swimming away, up, down, in a frantic motion. No longer unified, out of sync, they dart this way and that, smacking into me as they go.

What is going on?

Suddenly I am pressed against some brown tendrils all woven together. The make me think of kelp, long and malleable, but it is wrong. This stuff is rough, scratching against my skin as it presses against me. I push against it, move to swim away, but my fin has become tangled, and the school is being caught by the tendrils too, pressing the scaly bodies against mine, squishing me against the coarse substance. I begin to chew, tearing at the tendrils with my teeth. They taste nasty and I want to spit them out. I chew anyways, but get nowhere. I cannot get my fangs to stay formed, cannot slice through. I glance around, hoping to see mommy and the others coming to rescue me, but I do not recognize the area, I have swum too far.

“Mommy!” I cry loudly, frightened now. “Help!”

There’s no response, no movement. No one comes.

The tendrils encasing us leave the water. Without it to support some weight, the school presses down on my more tightly, their bodies flapping weakly in the confines. I cry out. A whimper leaves my throat. We swing through the air and then there’s a click and the tendrils fall open, dumping the school down into a waiting black hole. I grip the tendrils tightly, feel myself dangle painfully, but I am afraid to fall, so I cling to the rough pieces.

There are a bunch of voices, shouting, but I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper again. If this is a dream, I would like to wake up now.

I feel something thin and cold, but hard pull tight around the base of my tail. It tugs, hard, and I wince at the pain in my fin. Another tug and I lose my grip and fall, but I do not fall in the hole, but land on the ground outside of it. I gasp as pain laces through my body, curl up to try to appear small, to hide. Then there are hands, grabbing at me, forcing me to stretch out. I open my eyes, glance around. I am on a boat. A bad thing mommy told me always to avoid. I chew my lip and shy away from all the people towering over me on their strange land limbs.

Maybe they did not mean to bring me onto their boat; perhaps they just wanted the fish. I scoot backwards, using my hands to push myself towards the edge of the boat. The motion snaps them to attention and suddenly I’m grabbed again, dragged to the middle of the boat, painfully, by my fin. I cry out, screech in a high pitched whistling dolphin call for my mother, hoping she will hear me. I cry out again, tears of fear beginning to blossom in the corners of my eyes.

“It’s calling for help,” one of the people states.

“Bring it below, they won’t hear it. Besides, I doubt we need to fear a few fish. Make sure you get it in the water quick. We wouldn’t want it to drown up here, out of its element.”

“Think we should put it in the hold then?”

“No, it might eat our fish. Take it to the back storage.”

I glance around, confused on what they’re talking about. I cry out again, still using the dolphin call I was taught as I plead for my family to come. But the ocean remains still.

Without warning, I am hoisted into the air, held under on arm. A hand presses down on my neck, preventing me from moving my head. My tail sways and I grasp at the strange material covering the person’s body, afraid to be dropped. I am carried inside a strange box-like cave on the boat, taken through its tunnels. We stop in one of the small caverns and the man holding me stumbles as the boat sways. I whimper again, tears pricking into my eyes.

The hand on my neck is removed to pull open the lid of a large white box that is level with the man’s waist. I am dropped inside and then the lid is replaced, plunging me into darkness.

It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust, not that there is much to see, just plain walls on all side, caging me in. I shiver in the cold water and curl up on the hard ground, fear sending shivers through my body. I call out again, wince as the sound bounces back at me in the tight confines. Chewing my lip, I let me head fall to the ground, my fingers digging in as the water sways with the movement of the boat. “Mommy,” I whisper, knowing she can no longer hear me. “Please come get me, I want to go home.”

I have no idea how long I have been in this box, but I am starting to get very hungry and have started chewing on my fingertips, a habit I was scolded for, but cannot help but do, now.

I jump when I hear voices outside the box. Suddenly light floods my box as the lid is yanked open, and a hand is plunging in, fisting itself into my hair and pulling me up. The person’s other arm loops around my waist and hauls me out of the water. Then I am dropped into a smaller, lidless, clear box filled with water. I have to curl my fin to fit and even then it is too small. At least the water covers my head. “So the price we agreed on then?” The man asks.

“Oh, yes, I believe that is a more than fitting arrangement.” I watch another man approach, his hair is black, yet littered with graying strands, and his eyes are brown, narrowed and angry looking, pursed lips forming a type of grin. I feel terror grip and just by looking at him, I know he is not a nice man. He stares at me as though I were his next meal, a wicked grin replacing the smirk. He walks slowly, threateningly, towards me, and I swear if I could see his teeth, they would have long, curved fangs to go with his scary demeanor. “She’ll do nicely.”

I bolt upright, my gills flaring, my chest shuddering. Beside me, Katie wakes just as suddenly. She sits up, squeezes my shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asks, concern thick on her voice. I shiver again, hug myself, and bow my head. The terror is still thick, still fresh, and I cannot slow my heartbeat. Silent, shuddering sobs wrack my body, which is quickly pulled into a hug. “Luna, it’s okay,” Katie whispers. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

Yes, a nightmare, that is what is was; a bad dream. But it was more than that, a memory. It is only the memories that bring this much pain and fear. Still, I nod my head and Katie’s grip tightens around me.

“You want to talk about it?” She asks as she smooths down my hair.

I shake my head, but slowly begin to relax into her embrace. I cannot talk about it, even if I wanted to, I could not. It was so vivid, the emotions so thick, even now, but I cannot remember the dream itself. That has faded back into the far corners of my mind, the shadowy places I cannot reach, and do not want to.

“Are you sure?” Katie inquires. “Talking about it sometimes helps.”

I shake my head again. ‘I cannot remember what happened,’ I tell her. ‘But it was scary.’

Katie nods her head, rubs my back. “You mentioned that you have had a hard time sleeping these past couple of weeks that I’ve been away. Is this why? Have you been having nightmares?”

I chew my lip, but nod. I have had several of them, this is not the first time, and I often cannot calm down for quite a while afterwards. I do not often fall back asleep after.

“You had one a couple days before the opening too,” she comments. “I thought it was just because you were nervous, but it has to be more than that if they keep happening. Do you remember anything about them?”

‘I think they are memories,’ I explain. ‘But I do not remember them once I wake, it is just the emotion, sometimes pain, that lingers.’

Katie nods. “I suppose that is a good possibility, that it’s your sub-consciousness haunting you as it struggles to remember. Have you been trying lately? To remember things from the past?”

I nod.

“Well, maybe it is just bringing up memories from when you came here. Or it could be bringing up happier ones too, but you don’t realize it because you don’t remember. Fear is a powerful emotion so it makes sense that you’re only aware of the bad ones,” she states. She pulls away to meet my gaze. “You know that they cannot hurt you right? These dreams are still just dreams, and you’re going to be okay.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and press my cheek against her shoulder. I relax as her grip tightens instinctively and makes me feel just a little safer. ‘I am afraid still,’ I admit reluctantly. ‘I am terrified of waking up to be strapped down again. Now that it is not a constant, but an uncertainty, the fear is getting worse.’

Katie is silent for a moment, her fingers tracing circles on my spine as a faraway look enters her eyes. “I think,” she speaks slowly and softly after a moment, clearly still thinking. “I think that you have a good reason to be frightened, with all that you’ve been through over the years, but I also think that things are changing for you now.

“We’re part of an exhibit now, an attraction, and don’t be offended by this, but do you know exactly what that means?”

‘That people come to look at us?’ I guess, feeling decently confident in my answer.

“Well, yes, but it’s more than that. Now, I know you hate the term, but to them, we’re mermaids, creatures of fantasy now come to life. That’s a big deal and it will attract a lot of attention, especially children. The guests aren’t like the scientists, they care…sort of. They don’t directly care about us or our happiness, but if word got out about that they were cutting us open and torturing us, there would be an uproar. Nature rights organizations would have a field day protesting this, and every child on the planet would be begging their parents to help the mermaids,” Katie explains. “It’s the same reason they didn’t just stick you in a show tank by yourself. They needed me because people would be sad to see you all alone and they would run into the same problems. Does that make sense?”

I nod. ‘But what does it have to do with-’

“I'm getting there,” Katie interrupts me gently. “What they did to me was more of a desperate attempt to force me to compliance, not a regular thing. I think Dr. Auldon believes I can keep you in line, but that I needed some discipline of my own. The poking and prodding will stop now, Luna. They can’t risk closing the exhibit all the time because they cannot show us injured; people would get suspicious. As long as we do as we’re told and keep a low profile, there’s no reason for either of us to be taken into a lab room. In fact, it would be counterproductive.” She smooths my hair down and meets my gaze firmly. “Do you think you can do that? Fall in line and do as they say?”

I hesitate, chew my lip. No, I cannot. I refuse to be a meek little pet, broken and obedient.

“Luna,” Katie catches my attention again. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but I’m not saying you need to give up and let them win. I just need you to trust me. Stop fighting them, do as they say, make them happy. It doesn’t mean we’re giving up, it just means we’re going to have to hide our true thoughts and feelings. Let them think they’ve won, okay?”

I nod. ‘Okay,” I agree. I agree because I do trust her, she wouldn’t suggest it if she didn’t think it was important for us to follow through.

She sighs. “It isn't going to be easy, for either of us, but if we really try, we can do it. And if we manage to pull it off, they may lower their guards around us, may slip up a little. Who knows,” she shrugs, “maybe they’ll give us an opening. It’s a very unlikely long shot, but it’s the closest thing to an escape plan that I’ve got at the moment. At the very least, it’s self-preservation, right?”