Rolling in the Deep

Dedication

To the mermaids of the real world everywhere. This one’s for you.

Chapter One

Astorm raged outside her window while her parents battled on the other side of her door. Celia slept through it all. God Himself could come down blowing the Holy Trumpets with hooves thundering across the sky, and she would not have woken up. Life of late was hell, and home was the only place she felt safe; the one place she hoped the dreams would not find her. She told no one about her dream, knowing no one would believe her if she did. Dark circles formed under her eyes, and her peachy complexion turned ashen. Her luxurious mane of Kool-Aid red hair became brittle. Insomnia and insanity became her closest companions. When her doting parents invited her home for Spring Break, she embraced it willingly and packed her bags with joy. It was home, it was her bed, and she was insanely tired.

The dreams always started out the same. She stood on a bridge of rocks over the ocean, holding an umbrella in one hand, a set of keys in the other, watching the sea. Nothing ever approached from the distance, and it always ended the same. An arm reached out of the water, grabbed her by the hem of her skirt, and pulled her under. She fought to reach the surface, only to feel the crunch of razor-sharp teeth bite into her skin. Her legs scissored, and her arms whipped through the water, gaining her a slight distance, only to be pulled under and bitten again. She always awoke shivering and slick with sweat, unable to fall back asleep.

As the storm tempered on and the angry voices continued, she settled deeper into sleep. She whimpered as the dream found her. She stood on the rocks, her hair shorter than normal, a black top hat out of place with her frilly skirt and umbrella. She could smell the cold iron of the keys in her outstretched hand. The water churned, wave upon wave, frothing at her feet. Far in the distance, a fog rolled in, concealing the horizon from her sight. She waited for an arm to charge from the water, but it did not. A breath or two, a heave of her bosom, and a mast emerged from the fog. A black flag shadowed the mast, its skull and crossbones billowing in the wind. The ship itself emerged slowly, and she had only caught a glimpse of its bow before the arm shot out from the water and pulled her under. Biting started almost instantly that time. She whipped her arms up, up, but it was no use. She gained no distance. The water rushed into her lungs as she gasped for air, and she sat up in the bed, coughing.

Her mother rushed in uninvited. A sheen covered Celia’s face, and a small bead of sweat dripped from the tip of her nose onto the soft coverlet covering her lower body.

Celia, what’s wrong? I’ve noticed something’s been bothering you since you’ve come home, but you haven’t said anything. Please, let me help you. Mother turned on the bedside lamp and wiped Celia’s face with the sleeve of her robe.

Celia shivered. Mother pushed her back down on the bed and pulled the coverlet to Celia’s chin.

Tell me, child.

It’s just a dream, Mom. Celia poured her heart out, sharing every detail of the dream from beginning to end, including the new addition of the pirate ship.

Her mother listened intently. When the story finished, she didn’t speak right away. She stroked Celia’s dampened hair in comfort.

Maybe it’s not just a dream, she said, sighing. She pulled Celia into a sitting position. We knew you’d need to know the truth someday. We just hoped it’d be much later when you have a family of your own and would understand better.

We aren’t your natural parents, her mother began. We don’t even really know when you were born. The day you joined our family is the day we consider your birthday. Her eyes looked away from Celia’s, and her fingers toyed with the soft fringe of the coverlet. You were such a tiny baby... Her mother’s eyes clouded over as she lost herself in the memory.

"Pirates loomed in the ocean, preying on the small shipyard of fishing vessels, until few remained, and even those few were almost beyond repair. A damaged passenger ship seeking shelter docked at the furthest end away from the pirates, lurching and leaning as it took in water. All of its passengers evacuated to the town. When the battle ended, the pirates sailed away, they repaired the passenger ship, and the people left the island.

Father Brown had the only church at that time. It was brand new with its steeple tall and proud, its bells clanging joyfully on the hour. The church was kept locked in lieu of the tourists, and so it was that way when Father Brown went to open it that day, he found a baby on the doorstep. After a light and unfruitful search for your parents on the island, Father Brown determined that someone from the ship left you there. He then entrusted you to our care, and after a long inquiry without an answer, we adopted you. We never discovered if it was the pirates or a passenger who left you there. After time, it ceased to matter. You were ours, forever.

Her mother paused and let Celia absorb her words. When understanding dawned on Celia’s face, she continued.

"I think maybe this dream of yours is some distant memory of that day.