Seaside

She had never felt the golden touch of the sun or the coarseness of sand beneath her toes.  She had never breathed air touched with a hint of salt or felt the breeze against her skin, refreshing yet cold.  She had never heard the painful screeching of seagulls or seen a cloudless blue sky.  And so, she deduced that she had never experienced much at all.

She woke up in the Ocean, struggling for breath.  She tore her way towards the surface, not knowing which way was up and which was down.  Her directions were muddled, but at last, a faint light gave it away, trickling through the deep blue.  It was a beacon of hope against the darkness that surrounded her.  Kicking upwards, with her newfound limbs, she pushed towards it, her lungs burning the entire way.  When she reached the surface, she hauled herself up on the sand.  She cradled herself in her arms and tucked up in a ball she wept.  She had made it.

Guiding her along, the Sea Witch led her to a small cave, the entrance curtained with thick sheets of seaweed.  It was here that the Sea Witch made her a deal;  a single tear in return for legs.  Human legs.  She agreed.  And so she pricked her finger and watched as her blood, watered-down and red, was swiftly scooped up in a glass bottle and stored on a shelf stacked with other ghastly tokens.  The deal was done.  The Sea Witch smiled, and immediately, her vision flushed red.  She tried to squirm as her body began to tingle, but she was paralysed with a flick of the Sea Witch's fingers.  A searing hot pain erupted from her tail as her scales and skin tore apart.  The pain was unbearable, and nearing the end, she passed out, but she was quick to re-awake.  The last thing she saw was the Sea Witch’s toothy smile as she snapped her fingers.  Then all went dark.

She met the Sea Witch when she had just decided to give in and head back.  She was ancient, with skin crinkled and grey.  Her eyes were slit-pupils, and her fingernails curled up and were shaped like claws.  But what frightened her most was probably the pearl necklace she wore around her throat.  She wore it so tightly that it marked her throat, possibly cutting off circulation.  But although her horrid appearance, the Sea Witch was kind and held out an inviting hand to her, which, desperate, she took.  

The Witch asked about her problems, and after hearing them, told her there was an easy solution; leaving for the upper land.  She explained she could not, having a fin, not legs. The Witch laughed and assured her there was a solution.  She said she could help her back at her house, and so, overly trusting in this strange new world, she did. 

Alone and lost, she tried to navigate the Ocean, but having never been outside her cell before, it was a lost cause.  She seemed to be swimming in circles. A few times, she spotted Guards darting through the water, heading directly for the cells.  Clearly, they had been alerted of the damage caused by the shipwreck, and they were on the hunt for escaped prisoners. 

Where she travelled, the Ocean was mainly uninhabited; lifeless.  Hardly anything grew there, and nobody with good intentions lived there.  That was why the area had been turned into a prison sector.  It accommodated to the worst of the worst, that total having once included her mother.  Because of the area's complete lack of life, she was astonished to see a school of fish swim by.  They hurried past and were already out of sight by the time she decided whether to ask them for directions.

She had never been outside her cell, so escaping through the newly opened crack had been both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.  Outside, she watched as a few of the other prisoners made a run for it.  Their figures cut through the water as they dashed away.  She asked a few to let her join them in their escape, but they sneered at the sight of her, cursing her and her mother’s name.  She swam on alone, heading in the direction she hoped wouldn’t lead to her capture.

The waves continued to collide with the cliff face, wearing down the rock.  Unrelenting, the storm raged on.  Ships were flung about like paper planes, their crew’s cries diminished by the ruckus around them.  

As a ship smashed against the jagged rocks, the wood gave way, rapidly filling the ship with water.  It sank beneath the cold, dark waves, the crew throwing themselves overboard, falling limply into the water like ragdolls.

Below the sea, there was an eerie sort of calm.  Up above wind howled, but where she sat in her cell, it was calm, creating an unnerving peacefulness she had never experienced before.  

The ship sunk deeper into the watery depths of the Ocean with the cargo still on board and further weighing it down.  As it came to rest at the bottom of the seafloor, it collided with a row of ancient cells, made from old, tumbled stones and sealed with ancient statues, their features having been worn away.  A few of the stones dislodged upon impact, tumbling further into the darkness of the seafloor, and others collapsed in on the prisoners inside, silencing their screams.  A single hole opened up in the wall, and it was all she needed to escape.  To be free at last.

Unlawfully imprisoned for the crime of being born, she lived in a cell, confined to a single room.  Throughout the day, she would stare blankly at the walls, imaging them without their signature build-up of grime, and at night she would dream of those same walls enveloped in colour.  But although she dreamed, that was all it was; a dream.  Day in and day out, she remained confined in her mother's, and now her cell.  She would watch the walls develop a further covering of sludge, and each night her dreams were the same.  They would forever taunt her of the prospect of freedom.