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I stare intently at the dock, flicking my tail every so often to keep myself up in the water. If I'm going to go up onto the shore, I'm going to have to wait until no one is around. 

I wait until well past midnight for the last drunken sailor to lumber off the dock, mumbling about his lost love. I swim towards the shore, my jet-black three-foot long hair trailing behind me like a small oil spill. 

Should I really be doing this? Mermaids aren't meant to leave the water. I think. If I was meant to walk, I would've been born with legs. Right? I stop my progress for a moment, but then shake my head and continue towards to shore.

I begin to crawl, feeling the sand on the scales on my tail. As I pull myself away from the waterline, I feel a strange sensation of my tail splitting. I look back to find to legs in the place of my tail. I gasp. Is this normal? How did I not know that mermaids were meant to walk? 

I flip over onto my back and put my legs under me. I try to stand, but end up falling over onto the sand. After two hours of trial and error, I finally come to a wobbly standing position. I look around, hugging my arms, trying to find some indentification of where I am. I find a sign that reads: 

Port Royal

"Port Royal," I say aloud, my voice hoarse from hours of silence. I suddenly loose my balance and fall backwards. But I don't fall back onto the ground, I fall into someone. 

"Woah there," says a deep masculine voice.

I jump back onto my feet, taking a few steps to balance myself. I turn around to look at the man. He has light blue eyes and black hair, which isn't quite as black as mine. He's a foot taller than me and he looks very strong. I shiver. If he knows I'm a mermaid... he could break me in half.

"I--I--" I stutter, trying to explain myself.

"Your secret is safe with me," he says with a knowing smile.

He begins to walk away and I yell, "Wait! What's your name?"

He turns back around and looks at me for a moment before answering. "William. William Davis. Yours?"

My face flushes red. Should I tell him the name that my mother gave me when I turned 16. It was the most uncreative name in the history of names: Mermaid. I decide to tell him the name I like better, my actual name.

"Lisa. Lisa Goddess."

He then continued to walk away.


I never returned to my family in the ocean after that.

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