From the story: "The Sound from the Sea"
The next morning, the sea looked calm again—too calm. The waves whispered secrets that only the girl could hear. The sun was out, shining like nothing had happened. But to her, everything had changed.
Her world had shattered.
Police and neighbors crowded the small coastal house. Yellow tape lined the front gate. Her parents were in tears, trying to explain how both their children had vanished in the middle of the night. Officers asked questions. Took notes. But all the girl could do was sit silently on the hospital bed, wrapped in a rough blanket, her skin cold, her eyes lost in some distant memory.
She couldn't speak. She didn't want to.
Hours passed in a blur of voices and flashing lights.
Then came the call.
A boy's body had been found.
Her parents rushed to the beach, dragging her along in numb silence. The shoreline was filled with people—locals, police, strangers. Officers pushed through the crowd, leading the family to the covered body that had washed up on the sand.
When they lifted the sheet, her mother let out a choked scream.
It was him.
Her brother.
His body was cold, pale, and strangely damaged. Scratches covered his chest. Deep tears along his skin revealed wounds unlike anything they'd seen. Some said a shark. Others said sharp rocks. One of his arms was twisted in a way that seemed impossible, part of it missing entirely.
But she knew.
This was no accident.
This wasn't the ocean.
It wasn't a shark.
It was her.
The mermaid.
At the funeral, barely anyone spoke. Her mother wept into a handkerchief. Her father stood frozen, his hand gripping the edge of the coffin too tightly. The girl sat at the corner of the bench, silent, the haunting song still echoing in her ears—the same voice that called her brother into the sea.
The same voice that never stopped.
Days turned into weeks. People moved on. But she couldn't.
No one believed her when she tried to explain. Not the police. Not her parents. Not even the counselors who visited the house. They called it trauma. A mental break. Hallucinations from grief.
Her parents begged her to stop talking about mermaids and monsters.
So she stopped talking.
But she didn't stop searching.
Late at night, she dove into the world of sea legends. She searched online. Borrowed dusty books from the town library. Visited the old lighthouse where a keeper still lived—alone, watching the waters. She asked questions. Read stories. Dug deeper.
And what she found chilled her more than the sea ever could.
The stories she found were nothing like fairy tales. They spoke of ancient sea spirits, cursed mermaids that lured people to their death. Beautiful faces, sharp teeth. Eyes that could control minds. A scream so painful, it could burst eardrums.
The creature she saw that night was not a dream.
It was real.
________________To be continued...