PART ONE

Maybe it was that near-death feeling that drew her to the waves, the exhilaration as she launched herself off the rocks and into the crashing water below, the undulating waves a challenger, waiting for the right moment to strike, to pull her deeper and deeper still.

She had been fifteen the first time she jumped, the first time her parents stopped caring like they did with her five other sisters, the first time her siblings cheered and whooped, finally accepting her as one of them, not a stranger who shared their genes and blood — she was the only one with red hair, and that didn't settle well with her elder sisters, as it reminded them too much of their mother.

Sometimes, she thought she was trying too hard. The only reason why she actually bothered jumping was because of the way her sisters phrased it — seeing a whole new world, one where they could be reckless and wild.

After her first jump, she just couldn't resist the temptation of returning to sea every year on her birthday, to smell the salty sea air and swim out to the highest rock she could find, before diving beneath the water and feel the danger pulsing through her veins as she struggled to escape the grasp of nature.

By the time she resurfaced, water droplets were falling from the sky, so many and so quickly that it looked as if the sea and rain had become one giant slab of opaque liquid. A storm had been brewing when she reached the beach, evident by the bruises that tainted the sky, but she hadn't expected such a huge downpour.

Somewhere in the distance, she could vaguely make out the sound of an engine, probably belonging to a speedboat of some sort. Who would be as stupid as to set out to sea in this weather?

She almost scoffed at the irony of it.

The engine started to become louder and louder, until she could see it from where she was, her body numb from the cold and her face streaked with water. She glanced curiously at the speedboat, only to find it headed straight for a rock, but the captain of the ship clearly couldn't see it through the thick sheets of rain.

Her heart palpitated in her chest, panicked thoughts on how to prevent this tradegy that seemed too familiar — like The Titanic — from happening shooting through her mind, but never staying long enough for her to hold on to.

Before she could even compose herself and her thoughts, a loud bang erupted not far away. Her heart stuttered, skipping beats. Within milliseconds, the speedboat started sinking, and screams and yells could be heard, each one a stab to the gut.

Her instinct screamed for her to help them, but yet she wanted to run away from this scene, to erase it from her memory forever. Without further hesitation, she dove beneath the waves once more, and swam towards the wreck, hesitation clouding her mind as she neared the scene.

Breaking above the water surface, her eyes caught on a man around her age, kicking and flailing his arms helplessly as the menacing waves tugged him towards the seabed. Upon catching sight of her, the man shouted even louder, before he vanished under the sea. Her breath caught in her throat and she started towards the man, her arms stretched as far as they could to save him.

As her hands came into contact with his chest, she quickly maneuvered herself so that she was behind him, and wrapped an arm around his chest, before swimming backwards towards shore, carefully avoiding sharp rocks and other obstacles. Once he was safely on sand, she bent over him, checking for sounds of breathing.

He was alive.

Sitting back on her heels, she took some time to study the man's face. Realization hit her like a freight train as she analyzed his straight nose and tousled black hair. She had no doubt that behind those closed lids were eyes bluer than the Pacific itself.

People called him Eric, but to people like her, they knew him simply as the nerd at the front of the classroom. They had been close once, but those days had disappeared into smoke the moment they entered high school, and stereotypes sorted them into different cliques. That's how life worked, to her — it pulled people apart, only to throw them back together.

Eric's eyelids fluttered and she almost let out a squeak of surprise. She instantly shot to her feet and rushed behind a bush, peering through the leaves to check on him.

Another girl managed to drag herself onshore. With her matted brown hair, Maddie James was a beautiful girl, her paintings proof of her delicate, almost ethereal beauty. Nominated for many art awards, it'd be a shock if one did not know who she was.

She spluttered seawater onto the sand, laying on her back to catch her breath, her arm slung across her eyes to block out the rain as her chest heaved. When she rolled to the side and found Eric, she immediately sat up.

"Eric?" She said, frantically tapping his cheek, before checking him for signs of breathing.

Slumping in relief, she rested for a while more, but then decided to drag Eric towards the main road, where they might get some help.

As she watched them leave, she got to her feet, walking back to her car and heading home. Although she knew Eric was in safe hands, memories of their childhood days still echoed in her mind, and she wondered whether Maddie cared enough to actually make sure he was going to be alright.

She pulled up in her driveway and found her grandmother sitting on the front porch, staring out at the rain. She walked towards the old lady, sneezing from the cold as she went.

She hesitated for a moment as the elderly woman's eyes swept over her once.

"Bedstemor," she said, her heart suddenly feeling heavy, "do you think it's ever possible to fast forward time and see what happens to you and a best friend?"

"Ah, this is about that boy, isn't it?" Her grandmother chuckled, "I thought you've moved on."

She felt her cheeks heat up. "I have! It's just..."

Her bedstemor sent a wry smile her way. "Even if you could fast forward time, but if the ending isn't the one you want to see, min kære, then why bother? It'll just bring you so much pain. Instead of pining after that boy, just go talk to him, or forget all about him."

"You don't understand, Bedstemor, right now, you can't just go talk to a person because you want to. There are implications..."

"Stop thinking so much," the elderly woman hit the side of her head, "it'll fry that brain of yours. Just go inside and warm yourself up."

Smiling as she got to her feet, she started towards the door, but turned around when her grandmother spoke once again, "Barnaba, the world's an ugly place, and differences can make us worlds apart, but just remember: they can go on for ages and tell you how different you are, but you have the power to use love to pull it all together."

She headed inside without another word. She knew that she was different from the others, not only in the form of social status in school.

Her family was looked upon as both a blessing and a curse — her father kept the town in control, but yet always loosened their reins on his daughters once they reached fifteen. It was a family tradition, apparently, including the rock-jumping. Her mother had died that way a few years ago, but the sisters were unstoppable. Their father couldn't say no to them, no matter how much power he has over the town. The sisters were all addicted to the high the risk brought, craving it over and over again like a drug.

Maybe she had unconsciously become an addict too.

PART TWO

When she stepped through the school gates the next morning, one thought rang through her mind — she had to find a way to talk to Eric again. She missed them being together, having pillow fights and puppet shows, experimenting with different colors of paint to create a masterpiece.

Ignoring the tardy bell, she turned down the opposite hallway and strode straight down to the room at the end of the corridor. The hallway here was eerie and gloomy, with rumours of ghosts haunting the narrow passageway. She knew that the only ghost around there was the drug addict, who had connections to everyone. The principal needed those connections, so he let her stay.

Rapping on the door, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She didn't have to be afraid. Her family was a prestigious one, known for their charming personality. Nothing would happen to her, as long as she managed to trick, or talk her way out of it.

The door creaked open and a female with crooked yellow teeth and bloodshot eyes welcomed her. They called her the Sea Witch, although she had no resemblance to the character.

"Ah, look who we have here. How can I help you, Little Mermaid?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped.

"Feisty. Interesting," the Sea Witch grinned, revealing two sets of swelling gums.

She fought the urge to gag as she entered the room, which was packed with drugs and other suspicious-looking fluids and boxes.

"So...how may I help you?"

"I need to talk to Eric Prince."

"Well then," the Sea Witch sent her a giddy grin, "go do it. Unless you need one of these"—she extends a packet of powder towards me—"to aid you."

She shook her head. "I can't talk to him in front of anyone. It'll ruin my family's reputation."

"So you want to become someone else, eh?"

"In a way, yes. I can't go up to him either, because the principal and my father are in cahoots."

"What will exactly happen if you become friends with him again?" The Sea Witch asked.

"My father doesn't approve of him, because he thinks he's too shy and introverted. He's made it pretty clear if I have anything to do with him, he'll pretty much disown me," she said, "but Eric's used to be my best friend, and I just really want to get him back."

"Your father's view is ridiculous, Little Mermaid. Plus, from what I know, Prince is already manned-up. But since I'm so kind, of course I'll help you. I'll guarantee you you two will start chattering away. And by then, your father can't say no."

"Thank you so—"

"Hold on," the Sea Witch intercepted, "everything comes at a price."

Her heart stopped.

"Since you're already going against your father, we might as well bring it to the extreme. If you want my help, you are to eat this."

She revealed a green pill to her and she visibly flinched. The Sea Witch laughed and pressed it into her palm.

"Your decision," she sing-songed.

She paused for a moment. Did she really miss Eric that bad?

She made her decision.

the

pill

passed

her

lips

PART THREE

She was sent home early that day, light-headedness raising the teacher's concern.

A sick feeling of guilt kept bubbling in her chest. Before she could ask the Sea Witch what the pill would do, she had been forced out of the room, the door's bolt sliding into place straight after.

Sleep dragged her deep under.

When she pulled her sticky eyelids apart again, she swung her legs to the side of the bed, only to wince in agony as she tried to move.

Pain shot through her like a bullet train, immobilizing her temporarily as she struggled to fight the ache. It felt as if a thousand knives were stabbing her all at once, sending white-hot flames burning her skull. She blinked to refocus her vision, and when she did, she found herself on the floor, tears flowing freely from her eyes.

Rising to her feet, she almost collapsed when the acid-like pain tore at her skin. She took deep breaths, focusing on one task — getting out the door. She was positive this was the Sea Witch's doing, but she couldn't blame anyone but herself.

She tried to call out for help, but the pain stopped any words from leaving her throat. Perspiration beading on her forehead, she took baby steps towards the brass knob of the door. Before she could make it, she fell to her knees, magnifying the pain by a thousand, a million times.

Her trembling fingers reached for the knob. Safety was so close, yet so far, she thought, as her eyelids became heavy and drooped.

She mentally slapped herself awake. She would not fade until Eric returned to her side. She would not.

With all the strength she could muster, she got to her feet and stumbled down the stairs.

The rest of the day was spent practising walking around the house, trying to ignore the pain. Finally, she managed to control it, lock it away in a box in the corner of her mind. The pain was no longer in charge of her feelings, instead she had suppressed it to become a faint numbness.

She could hide the pain. She could pretend everything was alright.

But Eric had to become her best friend again.

PART FOUR

Eric walked up to her at lunch the next day. It sent her into overdrive, palms sweating as she gently lifted a hand and waved. She could not speak — it was like releasing the floodgates if she dared speak a word — but at least she could write.

"Hey," he said.

She tried to speak, but couldn't. Instead she smiled as wide as she could, and hoped it didn't look too creepy.

"Are you alright?" His brow furrowed in concern as he pointed to her untouched tray. "You haven't eaten."

She nodded slowly, and almost gestured to say she couldn't speak. But who would want to be friends with someone who couldn't talk? So she kept her mouth shut.

Eric stared at the seat opposite her. "Mind if I sit?"

She shook her head politely, and nudged her tray towards him. He laughed. "It's fine, I appreciate your kindness, but I've eaten."

Always the one with the manners.

"Do you want to, I don't know, go out after school?"

Her breath caught in her throat and she looked up from her food to stare at him, wide-eyed.

He grinned. "It's like you've gone mute, you know? What? I can't ask you out?"

She blinked and looked away, heat rushing to her cheeks.

"I mean, it's fine if you can't make it, I—"

She quickly shook her head.

"Why aren't you talking?" He asked.

She rubbed her throat in a gesture that hopefully conveyed the meaning of a sorethroat.

"Ah," he said, and another of his charming smiles plastered itself to his face.

"So...I'll come pick you up?"

She shook her head. Pointing at herself, she made a walking motion with her fingers before pointing at Eric.

"That's...very interesting. Pretty sure it should be the guy picking up the girl."

She flashed him a smile.

And he didn't know it, but that day, he'd made all the pain fade away, and replaced it with something that — she knew — was not much, but it was enough to glue her broken pieces together, to forget every tear she'd, to forget the price she had paid.

For once, she had been happy.

And the feeling he had given her...

It had felt a lot like l o v e

PART FIVE

They had stuck together for the majority of the month, but she knew time was running out. Before long, her father would find out about them and being disowned was the least of her worries. She needed to figure out what was wrong with her — the pain had yet to fade, but she had become such a great actress. Eric offered to take her to the hospital, and she had contemplated going herself, but her father would get suspicious.

She also found out that Eric was in love with Maddie, who had apparently been the one who saved him. She longed to tell him the truth, but she couldn't. Silence was no longer an option. It was a reality she had to live with. Hearing him talk about her brought such pain to her, greater than any other physical torture she had endured.

But she kept quiet.

She had been waiting outside the main entrance of the carnival, anxious of how Eric would look at her. She always carried this insecurity wherever she went, but she couldn't see that she had a body to die for. She couldn't see that she was giving up the whole forest for one tree, the whole sea for one fish.

And then Eric arrived.

She had been excited at first, but that was quickly extinguished — he was not alone. He was with Maddie, and they were laughing, hand in hand.

The way her heart ripped, it wasn't perfect and dainty. No, in fact, it was reckless and fast, like someone had thrown her off a cliff. She was falling hard and quick, and while that phrase would have been used to symbolize love, this time, she was plunging towards heartbreak.

Her sisters had come on that day too — who'd want to miss a fair full of hope and laughter?

They hadn't missed what was going on. Running towards her, they handed her a similar pill the Sea Witch had given her — round and glowing green.

"Take this to Eric and kill him," the eldest said. "He deserves to die for breaking your heart. Does he even know what you've been through?"

Her world froze.

The Sea Witch had given her...

No, it couldn't be.

Despite how bad the Sea Witch was, she wouldn't kill her on purpose.

Refusing to believe it, she shook her head frantically, both in denial of the state she was in, and rejecting the idea of poisoning Eric. She loved him too much to do that.

It was nearly three in the morning when she ran into her car and sped off towards the beach. She sat down on the cold sand and wept, her tears a reminder of how much she had gone through. They would have said that she was a brave warrior, but in true fact, she wasn't one. She was a coward.

Because just as dawn broke, she leapt off a rock and into the waves, and she dissolved into sea foam forever more, never to be found again.

PART SIX

Some people said that the death of Ariel Triton was a tradegy, having to die the same way as her mother did. Others say it was a shame.

But I know she deserves it.

My name is Maddie Whitstone, and together with the Sea Witch, we have one plan.

Take down the Triton family.

one

at

a

time

___

Word Count: 3200 words

*Bedstemor = Grandmother
Min kære = My dear
Barnaba = Grandchild

hopeless_romantic747 my entry for your contest!