Black

Sierra : I

I've never understood humans. They see merfolk as beautiful woman with long, flowing hair and a shining, sparkling fish tail. They tell stories of how merpeople drown sailors or fall in love with men. If they took their lives slower, if they paused and thought for a moment, they might realize there's no possible way a creature of land could live in the sea.

My name is Sierra. I live near Wakulla Beach, Florida, just by the Apalachee Bay. That's what I tell people when they ask where I live, but in reality I live in a cave a few feet from Apalachee. It's been discovered and explored, so save for a few tourists now and then, the spot's safe.

Is that enough about me? I hope so. I'm not the best at writing English, I'm used to... a different language.

Anyways... I recently enrolled myself into a school in Wakulla County. A high school, I think they call it. Apparently I'm a sophomore, though I don't really know what that means.

The people here think I'm Mexican, and they're not really wrong, but they're not quite right, either.

...I'm rambling again.

So, new school. First day. Nervous. Right.

I took a deep breath, walking through the doors. Endless hallways were filled with students my age and older. And me being the clumsy I am, I immediately bumped into someone. I stumbled backwards.

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry! Ugh, I'm such a cjudi! I'm so-"

"Cjudi?" The girl interrupted. Her pronunciation was off, her voice heavy with a scottish accent. Her hair was auburn and her left eye was blue and her right green. It was a little off putting, to be honest.

"...Bitch..." I said sheepishly. The girl burst into laughter and shook her head.

"I've never heard that before," the girl said.

"Oh," I answered, my cheeks burning. The girl puffed out her cheeks, trying to stop laughing. When she had recovered, she stretched out a hand.

"I'm Mercy Phillipa," she said. I blinked.

"That's a long name," I said stupidly. Mercy laughed again.

"Oh. Well... I'm Sierra. Sierra Fish." I gave her the same last name I gave the offices. I'm not particularly creative, so I just came up with something that reminded me of home.

Mercy gave me a weird look, no doubt about my horrible made-up name. I coughed quietly, shifting my feet.

"Hey, do... do you know where locker 120 is?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Umm," Mercy moved her head in weird ways, "I think near mine."

"Would you mind...?" I wondered, my cheeks getting hot again.

"Let's go," Mercy shrugged, walking away. I scurried after her, my eyes slightly wide. This school was huge, how was I ever going to find my way around it?

"I was right," Mercy said, stopping. "Our lockers are would be next to each other, if it wasn't for this asshole." She nodded towards locker 121. My eyes widened at her comment and she laughed.

"Hey, Brant and I know each other pretty well. If he can call me a bitch, I can call him an asshole," she explained.

"Oh," I said.

"Is that all you say?" she asked.

"Wha- no. You know that isn't-"

"Chill, it was a joke. Didn't you have jokes where you came from?" she asked, looking at me closely. I chuckled nervously, opening my locker and putting my stuff away.

"Not... Not really. My family... we were pretty literal."

"Were?"

"We- uh- we- we ARE! We ARE pretty, uh, literal!" I stumbled over my words, knowing that everything was just getting worse.

"Poor child," Mercy patted Sierra's head. "Poor, weird, familyless child." One of my eyes twitched. Is this what all humans were like? Mercy grabbed my schedule, scanning through it then smiling widely.

"Great, we have most classes together!" she gloated, then grabbed my sleeve and started pulling me away. If everyone's like this, I'll never survive.