Chapter Eight

103 20 15
                                    

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I was thirteen

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I was thirteen.

I remember letting my dark brown, almost black hair fall in front of my face, forming a shield around my features. I remember that my mom was appalled. I recall her telling my Dad, "I'll be right back," before leading me to a nearby bench, not caring about the lust-filled, longing, hungry, and predatory stares on her.

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted there weren't any stares like that on me. My mother sat down on the bench, me following right after, and I couldn't help but wonder; why was she still so pale when we had been spending a two-week vacation in Greece?

I was born in Oia Village, Greece, and so was Meir, though we moved to the states when Meir was a baby, but Meir and I were still awed by Greece - the history, the architecture, the ruins... 

I shook my head, shaking my thoughts loose. It was a silly, rhetorical thing to think about at the time, but I'm thankful that I did - any thought I have of my mother I treasure. Before she was killed, all seemed normal. Innocent even. I had been having fun on our last family vacation together.

And, I'm forever thankful for the fact I had decided to let my hair hang in front of my face because I thought I didn't deserve to be seen with my family. If it wasn't for my stupid anxiety, I might have never shared that last moment with my mother. I might have never laughed with her one last time.

She pushed a strand of her black bangs from her eyes, saying for the millionth time how she needed to grow them out, and how they can be a pain when they get too long. I personally liked them. My mother's raven black bangs were one of the things that made her my mom.

Her teal eyes darted back and forth, giving me a quick glance, before she let out a sigh, and said, "Let's cut to the chase." That was my mother; never one for manners. She said they're ridiculous, take up to much time and energy, and are pointless. She explained to me how manners were just a way of making someone else feel better about themselves, and a way to keep people in line. She said, "if I like you, I will show it, if I don't, that's okay, and I don't want to be forced to make mindless small talk with you."

A Secret Mermaid - Daughter of the GodsWhere stories live. Discover now