In My Head

Serpent

Sunbathing in the sands of the island of Delphi, my mother was a peaceful serpent with three heads, similar to Hades' guard dog. I always believed her to be more elegant than Cerberus, though; she was eerily human in her perception and interaction with the world despite being pure, born animal. Yet she was content as she was, and so she was left as she was.

She spent her days singing. Night and day she'd sing, her voice two-toned and played in hisses and spit, yet it charmed the goddess of the moon. Her scales glowed silver in the moonlight as a gift from Seline, reflecting a vast array of colors onto the sand and over the waves beside her.

The sea god Poseidon took note of those colors that disturbed his realm, this creature that was strangely human yet happy to live as a solitary animal. He didn't understand. He wanted to understand, so he began to spend time on the island with her. He listened to her song for days on end, just as enraptured as Seline.

However, Aphrodite could not stand that her current fling was giving so much attention to an animal. An animal that he called beautiful, that he watched with a sparkle in his eyes that was never there when he was with her. So, she did the natural thing.

She cursed my mother.

My mother was cursed with a human body. Poseidon was delighted. She was absolutely ethereal; a tall, slim, albino woman whose skin and hair shone exactly as her scales once did, whose eyes were red as blood yet nowhere near as skilled, whose voice was warm but raspy and deep, stood where a serpent once did.

She screamed. Tore at her flesh. Ripped at her hair. Her eyes were wide and brimmed with tears and she was breathing heavy, heavy, heavy- she could feel her chest rising and falling, feel the cool night air on her bare skin. She had only one head. One pair of eyes. One nose. One mouth. She was no longer special.

She tried to sing but her voice was plain, it was human- it was no more beautiful than that of any other mortal woman.

Poseidon offered comfort, offered distraction, and at first she turned him down, hissing and biting as she once did. Having shrunk fifteen feet and lost hundreds of pounds, the movements were nowhere near as intimidating as they once were.

However, Poseidon was content to wait for his prize, arrogant and sure as ever. The moment she calmed, he pounced.

I was born. The daughter of a land serpent turned woman and a sea god.

My mother was always distant. She didn't speak, didn't sing, except for a few rare moments that I'd catch her humming, or she'd decide to share a story from her 'real life.' I took anything she'd give me with silent gratitude.

We remained on Delphi. My father was absent, mother a ghost, so Seline became my only friend. She'd talk to me each night, send me gifts of fallen stars and pieces of the moon.

One day, when I finally reached maturity, mother passed.

I don't know the real reason, but I've always believed that the moment she decided I could care for myself she succumbed to her broken heart.

Maybe it was pure, animalistic maternal instinct that led her to raise me. Maybe she did love me in some way. Either way, I don't choose to remember her as a human. As my mother.

In my mind, she'll always be that silver, three-headed serpent, singing to the night sky. The real her.

***

Based on a random folk song I made up a year ago.