I should've known better than to save that bird - I mean, I was a shark mermaid, a predator, a killer - actually, if I'd been alone, I probably would've left it there to drown or kill it myself to have a snack, but I wasn't. To be honest, I can't remember what she looked like, or even what her name was; all I remember about her is that she was always smiling, that her eyes were very big and her hands tiny, and that she was a remora mermaid. Remora and shark mermaids paired up very often, just like our fish counterparts; but, in our case, they seek protection and they keep us from getting sick - I'm not sure how much time I'd been alone before I found her (a few decades, maybe?) but, in the centuries after that, I never got sick once - injuries are another thing altogether.

I never would've thought of swimming up to the surface to save that bird, but she asked me to - many, many, many times - so I ended up giving in. I hate to admit it, but the bird was beautiful, as colorful as a coral reef, with so many colors that I hadn't seen in such a long time... There were no birds like that in the Freezing Sea, the coldest waters in the world. Here, everything was void of color -white, black or gray, maybe blue at most - and, since I'd been born here, despite having lived in tropical waters for a century or two, so was I.

My reflection in the bird's eyes was the first image of myself I'd seen in a long time, but now I can barely remember it - I know my scales were small and created an illusion of uniformity, and that my skin was a pale gray, but I could see those every day; my eyes were very dark, and my jawline as sharp as my teeth, that's all I can really recall. I should've seen then that there was something wrong with that bird being there - it couldn't possibly have flown on its own, it was way too cold for that and, since I was saving it from drowning, it couldn't swim either. I should've just let it drown and gone back underwater the moment something - for what I remember, a leaf, although there were no islands nearby or, at least, none that were more than small chunks of bare sharp rocks- stuck to my cheek. I should've left when I heard a voice, I shouldn't have let her come to the surface too.

The strong wind bit my scaled skin mercilessly, so cold that it almost made the drops of water on it turn to ice. I knew the voice couldn't belong to another mermaid; apart from my remora and I, there were little to no mermaids in the Freezing Sea. That meant the owner of that voice was human but, for some reason, I was unable to realize that back then.

Come to think of it, the voice probably wasn't something anyone should hear on the day of their death; it was rough, broke the sound of the wind and the waves and it didn't speak in any language I could recognize. I clearly remember disliking it instantly, but apparently not enough to leave.

The bird left my hands to fly to the ship - an ugly, big, old construction of wood that, like the bird, broke the beauty of the frozen landscape. It was probably hatred what made me swim closer, my remora following, and I should've known better.

That'll probably be my biggest regret - I didn't know better, even when I should have known better after living in a world where going to the surface was a danger because humans dislike anything that isn't like them for centuries. I swam straight towards them, towards the almost certainty of being killed, and accomplished nothing; I'm sure I'd feel better if I'd managed to at least take one or two with me, but I didn't have the time for that.

To be honest, I can't remember if I ever even knew what I was hit by, but I was blind for a moment and, when my sight came back, I realized I couldn't breathe. I didn't struggle, if I had to die I'd much rather it happened in the water, but maybe I should have tried something; it didn't seem worth the effort at that time, I think.

I was slowly sinking, but not quite. Something tried to pull me towards the world above the surface that I'd always hated. Maybe I even tried to fight, who knows?

I was still high enough to see the sky through the wild waves - it was an incredibly dull grey mass, and it bored me even then. I could almost hear the freezing, wicked wind that had bit on my face earlier and see the snowflakes it dragged, too. The only thing I liked about it was the water.

I can't say it was beautiful enough for a last sight, but it became breathtaking when some blood - some of my blood - dyed the waters in front of my eyes with swirls of red; I suppose that, even in death, I was a predator who loved the sight of blood above everything else.

At first, she'd tried to stop the bleeding, I think; then, I felt her tiny hands around my wrist as she tried to pull me deeper - to pull me to safety, to find our kin, to get me help - both of us knew I wasn't going to make it either way, but I liked her trying, I liked my remora's unwavering and everlasting hope. I think she said something, too, but I either couldn't hear or didn't listen, or maybe I simply can't remember - it's not like that was going to make a difference anymore, anyway.

And there I was, my vision black now, my blood mixing with the water and unable to breathe, only strong enough to speak one last time "Foolish me, I thought mermaids couldn't drown."

I wonder what happened to my Remora, I hope she got away