You don’t believe in Mermaids you say? Well, start believing. I once was one. My father runs the underworld and my mother is the queen. Mermaids are rare, almost extinct these days. As hyper social beings, I’ll have you know that it is hard finding companionship in the ocean. I would swim for days on end sometimes only hearing the sound of passing minnows constantly fleeing for their lives. What a way to live, always in fear. I would hear the occasional whale singing tales of love, hope and beauty. The colors around me were hues of deeps purples, vibrant greens and plush pinks that all became intertwined between my finger tips. It’s beautiful deep in the ocean. It’s where the weight of the world is absent from your shoulders but solitude is pervasive and there is not much novelty, things are ancient down there. The trouble is that I am a novelty seeker. I become parched when not quenched with new knowledge and experiences.
As a mermaid, I watched you human beings on occasion, but you didn’t see me. I was among the school of dolphins swimming by your cruise ship listening in on your conversations of your cars, food and skin problems. I whispered hi, but you didn’t hear me. I longed to be among you. I wanted to experience the deep connections you create with one another. Even the surface relationships you have with one another, I wanted it all. I knew I could talk about the weather, art, and culture. The ocean is lonely and I am too young spirited to grow old without the stimulation of the human world.
I asked my father to gift me legs and make me human. He said I was just chasing novelty again. I disagreed even though I knew it to be true. At least it would be adventure. After weeks of pleading, my father and mother agreed to grant my wish. It came under one stipulation that they had no control of; they could give me legs to be human, however my water filtering lungs wouldn’t know how to function properly on land with filtering oxygen. I would have to breathe salt-water aerosols daily, do breathing treatments to clear my ocean filtering lungs when they were on land and take lots of medications to protect the rest of my organs from becoming damaged from the change. My father warned it would be hard work, but promised I would be able to meet people and live a full life like I had dreamed of. I chose to accept the deal.
One day the ocean will take over my lungs and I will return to the ocean where I’ll be able to breathe, swim and dance without the implications of the land disease cystic fibrosis. Until then, when I see you, I will say hi, you will hear me and hopefully reply back. I work hard for each breath on land but it’s ok because in the grand scheme of things, it’s worth the battle.
Vicki Thompson is a 28 year old with cystic fibrosis who loves to listen, create and be human. She changes her mind everyday so she found it difficult to write anything concrete about herself here in third person. I'm Sorry. Whoops, she means, she's sorry. Find her on Facebook to connect https://www.facebook.
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