Dark long hair, she sat upon a rock brushing her fingers through and singing the most beautiful song.
“Father, look over there! Isn’t she beautiful.” Emma sighed dreamily looking through her binoculars into the deep blue ocean. Her father did not look from the horizon as he steered the ship
“That’s a siren, Emma,” he said, “They’re cruel, cruel creatures that lure in men with their songs and then sink their ships. Avoid them at all costs.”
Emma continued to stare at the majestic creature. How could something so ethereal be bad she wondered. Certainly her father was lying to her, he was probably only restating an old tale told from one of his older crew mates.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she muttered under her breath and began to head down to her bed under the deck of the ship.
~~~~
Tap. Tap. Tap. The noise startled Emma awake.
Tap. Tap. Tap. She walked towards the door and opened it but no one was there. “Hello?” she called down the hall.
Tap. Tap. Tap. This time she realized the noise was coming from behind her. It was coming from the window of her room.
Tap. Tap. But what could it be? She was surrounded by the ocean.
Tap. She walked towards the window “Go away stupid seagull! I’m trying to sl-” she began to call, but when she reached her window it was not a bird looking back her, but a girlish face. It was the siren from earlier.
Emma gasped. She was speechless seeing something so beautiful up close. Tap. Tap. The siren tapped upon the glass and then gestured for Emma to open her window. Emma obeyed immediately. The siren brought her face closer to the porthole.
“Hello.” Her voice was smooth and delicate. Emma had never heard anything more beautiful.
“H-hi.” was all Emma could stammer back.
“I noticed you watching me earlier,” she said, “and I was a bit curious as to why there was such a beautiful human upon a ship with at least a dozen unworthy men.”
“I- uh- what? You noticed... me??” Emma could not believe what was happening. “I, uh, well actually live on this boat with my father and his crew mates and that’s just how it’s always been and I used to live with my mother on land of course but then she got sick and—“
“Sh..” the siren quietly hushed her, “that is alright. I simply wanted to check on you. To make sure they were not taking advantage of you, as most of these pirates do to young women. If you are alright though and do not need my rescuing I will be going.”
“Oh well yea,” Emma said, “I am not a prisoner here or anything, technically.”
The siren looked relieved once she heard Emma’s answer. She smiled at Emma and Emma instantly felt her heart sink as the siren began to turn away, back towards the ocean.
“Wait!” Emma called out. “May I at least know your name?”
The siren gracefully turned back towards Emma. “You can call me Celia.” Emma felt her heart skip a beat when she noticed the siren was blushing.
“Celia,” She replied back, “Well you can call me Emma.”
“Ok, then Emma, I bid thee goodbye and goodnight. I wish for safe travels to you and your crew.”
“It was nice to meet you.... Um, Would you consider coming back again?” Emma asked nervously. She instantly felt the heat rise to her cheeks.Celia noticed and Emma saw her try to suppress a giggle.
“If you would like, I could come back tomorrow?” suggested Celia.
“Yes! Yes please! That would be great you can come in the morning when everyone else is eating. I’d like that very much, Celia.” Emma was smiling ear to ear. This level of excitement was new to her.
Celia motioned for Emma to come closer to the window and once Emma was close enough she leaned in and kissed her upon the cheek, “I will see you tomorrow then.” Her smile was the most beautiful thing Emma had ever seen. Emma smiled back at Celia as she finally turned away and jumped back into the water.
Emma closed the window and skipped back to her bed. She felt her face, she had never felt such heat in her cheeks before.
Emma grabbed her pillow and hugged it as she dreamed of meeting Celia again tomorrow. For the first time she was excited to see what the next day would bring her. She fell asleep thinking about running her fingers through Celia’s long, shiny hair.
Flight. It’s always been flight.
Not because I don’t want to fight. I do, truly. I’ve just never been taught how. Running away from what causes me uneasiness is all I know. Pushing it away until the very last second is what I do best.
One day I will fight... but to say “one day” is to give myself more time to procrastinate. More time to run.
Today. Today I will fight,
or at least I’ll try.