Fins and Flippers

Fins and Flippers - Chapter One

My name is Princess Coral Aquamarine Melody Arial; I have flawless blonde hair which is arranged in beautiful waves like the lapping ocean and is woven with various dainty sea shells. I have a sea foam green mermaid tail. I sing all day long and live in the depths of the ocean near the wonderful and majestic city of Atlantis.

Yeah right.

If you were expecting to read a wonderful story about cute little mermaid princesses who never stop singing and dream of being able to swim freely around the tranquil ocean then get lost.

I’m Josie Fletcher, sixteen years old, and a mermaid. And I hate it.

Let’s put this simply – my flawless blonde hair is actually a rather matted brown mass of tangles that rides down my back and, no matter how many times I straighten it, always stays both twisted and - to my greatest dismay - curly. My so-called mermaid tail happens to be pink. Don’t laugh, okay? If you do laugh you can get lost too.

Yes, it’s pink. Not just some soft baby pink, oh no, it’s a bright hot pink. The type that makes me want to throw up every time I see it, and no matter how many times I dye it, my tail just changes back to the same abysmal colour the next night. How do you a dye a tail, you ask? With an awful lot of difficulty.

You see, I’m only a mermaid at night. Kind of cliché, but that’s my life so don’t diss it. And if you’re thinking ‘do you sleep in a disused oil tankard at night filled with sea water?’ the answer is no, so don’t mention that if you want to stay alive. I sleep in a bed, okay? My legs turn into a fish tail at night, big whoop.

I bet you look a lot more mutated than I do at night, you could be a werewolf for all I know. But that’s stupid – werewolves don’t exist. Neither do vampires for your information, and if they did they wouldn’t be all wimpy and run around screaming ‘EDWARD SAVE ME!’ No referencing to anything there, of course. Same with mermaids. You think mermaid, you think all of the stereotypes I listed above. Well let me tell you, you’re not about to start branding me. I’m in a league of my own.

Okay, where do I live? As long as you’re not a psychopathic stalker I’ll tell you. If you are... you should have got lost already. I live in the south of Wales. Wales? You ask – yes, it’s the place where all the sheep are. And the hills. And the rain. A lot of rain. But that’s Britain in general for you, isn’t it?

Now as soon as you think of the word mermaid I’m sure Atlantis must come to your mind quicker than Wales does. It’s called Wales for a reason – it sounds like whales. And since mermaids like whales I’m afraid we all started to move here, or some of us anyway. The idiot ones. The ones I’m descended from no doubt.

Back to Atlantis. Well, I’m afraid to break this to you but Atlantis doesn’t exist. Neither does Santa, those bearded men in shopping malls are fake. Sorry if I burst your bubble there.

Now, enough of the mermaid stereotypes. I’m an ordinary, if slightly moody (though perfectly rational), ex-schoolgirl from a dull little fishing village in the south west of Wales. And I think fish are pretty tasty, so deal with it. Now don’t you go lecturing me, calling me a cannibal or anything. Fish are nice enough creatures, but even nicer served battered with a side of chips in a polystyrene dish with a stubby wooden fork.

I guess my adventure, if you’d call it that which I certainly wouldn’t, started one particularly dull and drizzly Saturday morning. I was planning, like most Saturdays, to spend the whole morning in bed and the rest of the day moaning to anyone who would listen about my troubles without mentioning the word mermaid. If I did they’d think I was insane. Then again, they already think I’m insane so there’s no problem there. If you’re wondering if anyone knows I’m a mermaid the answer is obviously no. They’d shoot me or take me away to some government facility for lab tests or something like that. I’m not stupid - I've watched enough sci-fi programmes.