The Girl In The Lake

“How’re you feeling?” I ask, pushing back his sweaty blonde hair.

            “Peachy!” He exclaims. Ian has never understood the concept of sarcasm, and he got the term ‘peachy’ from me, when I feel like crap and my mom asks how I’m feeling, though if she looked in the bucket next to me, she’d have her answer. He thinks I’m serious when I say it.

            “Good.” I smile, knowing that it doesn’t reach my saddened eyes. 

            “You’re really pretty.” He says looking at me. “You were before, but I’m glad I have someone to talk to about this.” He says, very grammatically correct for a seven year old. I roll my eyes, as all teenage girls do when they are told they are pretty, though I suppose I should believe it now, whether I think so or not, I am gorgeous now. I have to be, it’s in the job description.

            “Thanks. So how long have you been turning into a… wolf?” I ask.

            “Since my birthday.” He answers. My little brother who can detect a lie from a mile away and hates lying with all his soul kept that from our family for 8 months? I admit, I’m impressed.

            “Your dress is clean.” He points out.

            “No it’s not, I got blood all over i-” I look down. Tendrils of water are receding from my dress. They twine around it, like a maypole, but different. As my math teacher would say, “Exactly the same but completely different.” Which then my best friend and I would laugh at her at our lockers and- school.

            What do we do now? My parents will track us down and kill us! Wouldn’t they? I feel just as human as before, but with a little something extra- a little buzz of something coursing through my veins, like adrenaline, but without all the sweat. And there’s the “unearthly beauty”, the powers, oh, and every guy wanting to get into your pants so you can eat them like some kind of giant praying mantis.

            “I’m tired. Sing me a lullaby?” Ian asks. I nod, not really thinking. I open my mouth to sing his favorite song- Hallelujah, we both think it is just a beautiful song.

            “I've heard there was a secret chord. That David played, and it pleased the Lord. But you don't really care for music, do you? It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah.” I stop, for I’ve heard my voice. And it scares me. I can feel that I’m not using its power as I sing, but I feel the potential vibrating in my throat, producing sounds irresistibly beautiful. A new kind of monster has been born, and it is twice as hungry as the first, it yearns for human flesh.

            I am a Siren. I eat men. After having sex with them.

            My God, I’m screwed.

            Ian has fallen asleep and the sun is beginning to rise, my night vision turns off and I see normally. I lean over the edge of the lake, my eyes squinted shut, afraid of what I’ll see in the reflective waters.

            I see a girl in a low cut, pure white strapless dress that whips around her in the escalating wind. Her hair remains perfect, despite the aggressive wind, and hangs at her hips, black and glossy. It’s straight, but not perfectly so, and seems to widen at her cheekbones and turns back in, where at the ends it curls for an inch. Her eyes are many colors, as they always were, changing within each second to impossible colors, red, purple, orange, beige. They always have changed colors, but much more subtly and less often. Her cheeks are perfectly pink and they always high cheek bones are just slightly more defined. Her chin rounds perfectly, and her skin is absolutely flawless except for the ghosts of freckles that are barely visible except for the trained eye that knows to look for them on her nose.

            That girl in the lake, is Missa Leigh Kerman. The once Being Hunter, and now Bloodthirsty Siren. Me. I study my dress, my light wash skinnies have disappeared to reveal perfectly shaven legs, legs that are perfectly toned and thin. The dress is floor length with a ridiculously long train, about 12 feet long, yet light enough to flow behind me when I run. I want someone to video tape that, me running, with my now beautiful body and hair flowing behind me with the dress. On the sides it rises up to a point in the center just below my knees. And it folds gently. It is an empire waist; the dress starts to flow around my stomach area. It’s beautiful.

            I open my mouth to say something to my reflection, and I stifle a shriek. My teeth, which were perfectly normal before I sang, are now pointed and razor sharp. Every single one of them.

            “Make it go away make it go away make it go away make it go away…” I mumble to myself, tiptoeing in a circle and shaking my hands, it’s what I do when I’m grossed out, and when I don’t want something to happen, or something bad is happening I crinkle my nose and block my ears.

            I walk over to Ian, who is soundly sleeping, and fall asleep.

Author's Note

Reviews please!!!

Reviews

[Samuel Price]

Wow.it's very good.i love and can't wait to see what happens next