They're real, you know. Merfolk, sirens. They just found ways to hide. There's very subtle ways to tell whether a person is a merfolk or siren. One is that they often smell of sea salt, even without being near the ocean. Another, to tell whether one was born on land and never touched the sea, is how terrified they are of the ocean. Those that are extremely terrified, and smell of sea salt, are quite possibly merfolk. I myself have been studying one such person for quite some time now, and I have come to the conclusion that-

"Rosalina Darkwood, what are you doing?!" the teacher yells, bringing me out of my book and to the Hell that is school. "You were specifically told not to read while in school!"

I blink, shaking my head a bit to clear it. "Sorry sir."

"You will be. Place the book on my desk so we may continue the lesson without interruptions." he says sternly.

I sigh, stand up, walk to the front, and place the book down on his desk. I then head back to my seat without a word of complaint. I attempt to focus on the boring lesson he's presenting us, wishing I hadn't been caught reading the book.

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"You got caught reading again?" April asks as I sit down next to her.

"I did... it stinks. That was my grandfather's journal, too." I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Maybe mother or father can get it back... I just got to something interesting."

"Why would you want to read your grandfather's journal?"

"Well... It's not technically a journal. It's the book he wrote in and left me when he died. 'The Guide to Fantastic Creatures and Mythical Beings,' he titled it."

"Sounds boring." she rolls her eyes.

I shrug. "I don't know. He mentioned something about people smelling like sea salt without being near the ocean, and the possibility of them being merfolk."

"Or they used soap that smells like that. Come on, Rose. Merfolk aren't real."

"April, you're the one that kept telling me to read-"

"Well, I'm taking it back. Your head is way too far in the clouds." she huffs, standing up. "Mermaids and mermen aren't real, but this is. We're seniors in high school, not in first grade." She then storms off, leaving me to eat my lunch alone.

I look down, then push my tray away, putting my head on the table silently.

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I kick the rock in my path, muttering to myself. "My only friend and she decided to be a bitch about the fact that I want to believe in merfolk..." I look up, reaching the large mansion that my parents love to call home. I instantly walk inside, sighing. "I'm home!"

"Rosalina, your teacher dropped this off earlier." my mother walks in, holding-surprise, surprise-the journal Opa left me. "What were you doing with this at school?"

I look down. "Reading."

"We've told you before. Your grandfather was a lunatic! Don't follow in his footsteps!"

I close my eyes. "Yes mother."

"Good. Now, go get your homework done while I deal with... this." she starts to walk off.

I look up at her. "Mother, may I keep it? Opa-"

She freezes and glares at me. "Your grandfather is not to be called by that name!"

"...he left it for me, mother. It's mine."

She scoffs, then-to my horror-tears the pages right out of the book. "It's not yours anymore. Now go to your room."

My eyes widen. I run to my room, holding back the tears threatening to fall. Don't cry. It'll only make you weak. Showing them weakness is like lying on train tracks with a train barreling right towards you.

I lie down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, and try to forget everything that just happened. Maybe if I don't focus on it, I'll wake up and the book will be sitting on my bedside table, like it always is. April wouldn't have left, I wouldn't be in trouble, I'd be...

My thoughts trail off. What would I be? Happy? I've not felt happiness in so long, I've forgotten what it feels like. I haven't felt it since my grandfather-since Opa died.