Beyond The Depths

Chapter 17

Thuk. Thuk. Thuk. Thuk. It plays over and over in my nightmares, looping until I'm screaming for it to stop. All I hear is the sound of the axe as it slices through Uncle Brandon's neck; all I see is his face the moment the life leaves his eyes. At the very last minute, right before it goes back into its endless loop, Uncle Brandon looks up at me. Chills travel down my spine; I can't breathe as his eyes scan my face.

When he speaks, I go rigid. "Who are you kidding? You'll never be a true princess. All I see is a weak, scared, worthless mermaid pushing down her fears, doubts, and insecurities until they can't touch her." A cruel grin spreads across his face—he knows exactly what buttons he's pushing.

The worst part is that he's right. That's exactly what I'm doing. Before I can so much as open my mouth, the scene continues. Thuk... thuk... thuk... thuk...

I opened my eyes, breathing unevenly. I had hazy memories of Rochelle coming to my side and placing a cool cloth on my forehead; Kai holding my hair back as I was sick over and over again. My head was throbbing, but I didn't feel nauseous anymore. Kai dozed beside me, the shock and exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours hitting him hard.

Mostly, I just felt heavy. When the knock sounded on our door, I cleared my throat before speaking. "Come in," I called softly, my voice hoarse from screaming (or crying).

I saw a flash of black hair first, then a face appeared. Brows creased in concern and eyes wide with worry, Uncle David swam in, quietly closing the door behind him. "How are you feeling?" He whispered, careful not to wake Kai.

Tears threatened, but I held them back. I was so tired of crying. He took my hand as he sat on the side of the bed, waiting for me to speak. "I feel heavy," I responded, voice breaking. "I know I should be feeling glad that Uncle Brandon and Aunt Naia won't be able to hurt anyone ever again, but I just keep seeing the agony on her face."

He put a hand on my cheek, eyes locked on mine. "I can't even begin to imagine how awful that must have been to watch. I just came from talking to your dad—he said that your mother hasn't moved or spoken since they've been home. Yesterday really shook her."

I recalled the blank stare on Mom's face in the minutes, hours, after the execution. I'd seen that exact expression on my own face too many times. "How are Faye and Drew doing?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.

Whatever he saw on my face must've convinced him to drop it, because he switched subjects as easily as I had. "Really well," he said. "Faye has really come out of her shell at school—she talks nonstop about her friends and the things she's learning. Drew has really improved at cometball. He's always practicing for his next game and showing off for me and your aunt."

I smiled despite myself. My hands shook as I slowly swam out of bed, Uncle David steadying me with a hand on my arm. "You should be resting. Your body is still recovering."

A pit yawned open before me; I felt its pull, almost impossible to resist. I couldn't let myself surrender to the fears, doubts, and insecurities inside me; lest I fall into the role of the weak, scared mermaid Uncle Brandon had accused me of being. "Do you think I'm weak?" I asked, the smile disappearing from my face as the words left my mouth.

A strong mermaid would have been able to handle the aftermath of an execution; she would have been able to hide her emotions away and watch with indifference. He squeezed my hand, the motion drawing me out of my thoughts. When he looked at me, my breath caught at the look in his eyes. "You are one of the strongest, most resilient mermaids I have ever met. Just like your mother."

"What time is it?" I asked, looking out the window into the open water. I could see the sun streaming on the ocean floor from the surface, so I guessed it must have been noon or later.