Chatterbox: Inkwell

Jeanine (Jee-Jee)

(A Human)

Saturday, June 14

Have you ever had the feeling someone’s watching you, but then when you turn to look, there’s no one there? Most people have that feeling at one point or another. Have you ever had that feeling while in a boat, or on the beach? Have you ever looked out at the dark waters of the ocean, and thought you saw someone out there, even though no sane person would be swimming at this late hour? Have you ever heard, at night, a strange, almost musical sound, coming from the sea? You have, haven’t you? I can see the answer on your face. Whenever you’re sitting by the ocean, and you see that dark swimming figure, or hear that song, or simply feel like you’re being watched by someone, beware. For they have set their sights on you. And if you ever wake up on the beach, but don’t know how you got there, look at your neck to make sure it’s not bleeding, for they always mark their victims ahead of time. Make sure you don’t have a teardrop shape carved into your flesh. If you do, they’re coming. They will find you. They will take you with them when they go.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

The notes of a song float through the night air. There have been many nights like this one in the last few weeks, where from the gentle waters near the shore would come a melody, and words that no one would understand had they heard the song. Of course, no one else can hear the music. Only a few. Me, and Eli, and Kaia. The music comes to each of us, and it has its effects on each of us.

For Kaia, as she told me last Monday, the music causes all of the painful memories of her past to return. She’s never told us what those memories are, however.

Eli, or so he says, feels drawn to the music, as if it’s calling him. He says that it makes him feel longing, though for what he doesn’t know.

And I feel scared when I hear it, for it brings pictures into my head, horrible images of my loved ones dying, the earth crumbling to bits, people being killed before my eyes. I fear that I will go insane from the music and its horrific drawings. I made my dad buy me earplugs, so I wouldn’t hear it, but still the song creeps into my mind like a spider crawling in through the tiny space between the door and the ground. Even if I’m awake, I see the images as clearly as if I’m living them, just like I would see a dream. I think I might be going crazy. After what happened to Eli last week, I also worry that we might not live to see our next birthdays.

We had all been sitting on the dock, listening to the music and half knowing, half wondering who was singing, me twirling my red hair around my fingers, when Eli suddenly got up, his eyes glazed over, and jumped into the water. Me and Kaia called to him, but he didn’t resurface for nearly a minute. His eyes were clear when we pulled him up onto the dock, but he talked like a nutcase, saying he had seen a creature under the water, and that the creature was the one singing, a woman with claws and pointed teeth, and a tail like a fish’s. We all knew what he had seen, and we had known who was singing all along. We just didn’t want to admit the truth to ourselves. We didn’t want to believe it, even though we knew it was true. The Syrens had returned.

Kaia

(A Halfling)

Monday, June 16

“How did you sleep last night?” Dad asked cheerfully as I came into the kitchen.

“Ugh.” That was the only reply I could manage as I ran my fingers through my black-- and currently very tangled-- hair. I got a box of cereal out and opened the cabinet to get a bowl.

“Is ‘ugh’ French?” Dad joked.

“No, it’s Portuguese.” I said sarcastically as I poured myself a large helping of some kind of corn cereal; I was still too asleep to see what it was called. I opened the fridge to get the milk out, but Dad held it up from where he was sitting drinking coffee and eating toast.

“I put some in my coffee.” he explained.

“I thought you hated coffee.”

“I do, but Maura invited me to a coffee shop today and I didn’t want to tell her that I don’t like coffee. It seemed rude. So I’m trying to get used to it.” He said sheepishly.

“In one day? Not gonna’ happen. Besides, you can get other things there too. Like tea, or some kind of pastry or something.” I told him, rolling my eyes. Dad was always trying to impress Maura, his coworker. I think they might be starting to create a relationship, and I would be really happy for Dad if that was the case, (not to mention how cool Maura is) but Dad hasn’t said anything yet, so I’m not sure if they’re together-- or if that’s even going to happen.

“Oh, now you tell me! After I drink almost all of this horrible stuff!” He said loudly, getting up and dumping his coffee down the sink drain. I laughed at him, then sat down to eat. He got me a spoon out of the drawer as I poured the milk into my bowl.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

“Kaia! Hey, Kaia! Hey! Hey!” I looked behind me to see who was calling my name. It was Jee-Jee. I attempted a grin and stopped walking to let her catch up to me. “Hi!” She said it happily, but I could sense how tired she was.

“You didn’t sleep much, either, huh?” I asked. She sighed.

“No.” She stifled a yawn as she said this.

“It’s getting louder, you know. They’re going to come for us soon.” I said dismally. I waited to see what she would say, but Jee-Jee was silent. She walked just quickly enough for it to not be considered trudging, her backpack bouncing up and down on her back a little with each step.

“I wish you wouldn’t remind me.” she said, then looked around. “How’s.......well...” She cleared her throat, almost nervously. “How’s it coming with......umm.....your....tail?” I sighed dramatically.

“It’s awful. I can’t figure out anything about it. I know I’m adopted, so it’s not like I can ask Dad about my Syren heritage. I don’t know if it was my mom who was one of them or just my grandmother or something, and I’ve tried and tried to track down my birth father to ask him,  looked up my name to try to find his name, and all that, but.......” My voice trailed off.

“Have you figured out the full extent of the transformation? Like how long it takes from start to finish and all that?” she asked.

“Well.......no.” I hadn’t thought of that. “That might help with at least figuring out how much of them is in me.”

“Yep.” she said, looking happier than she’d looked since the Syrens started singing last month. But she actually seemed more proud of herself than happy. “You know I’m the smarter of the two of us.” she said jokingly.

“Whatever, Einstein.” I laughed as we walked up to the school building. It felt good to laugh, even for a short time.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

After school ended, I said goodbye to Jee-Jee and made my way through the corridors to my science classroom.

“Mr. Klinn, have you ever read anything interesting about......” I cleared my throat before continuing. Mr. Klinn, the biology teacher, looked at me expectantly. “...Syrens?”

“Syrens?” he asked. “Like those bird women in ancient mythology? Those Syrens?”

“No, mermaid Syrens. Not bird Syrens.”  I said. “Those don’t exist.” I added suddenly. I cursed at myself. Why had I said that?

“No, I haven’t read much on Syrens.” Mr. Klinn said. He eyed me strangely. Great. I thought. Now he thinks I’m nuts. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason. Just saw something on TV last night.” I said. Mr. Klinn just returned to his work. “Well, I should be getting home, I guess.” I told him, then turned to leave. Needless to say, I didn’t exactly feel like a smart person as I left the classroom.

Once outside the school, I felt like someone was watching me. I looked around suspiciously. I shifted my backpack to a more comfortable position on my shoulders, zipped my jacket all the way up to my neck, put my hood on, then started to walk down the sidewalk toward the beach. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a tiny movement near the school building. I kept walking, but changed direction toward a different part of the shore, widening my view of the high-school. A dark figure stood in the shadows. I started walking faster toward the water, and the figure stepped forward, out of the shadows. The person was dressed all in black, and had a scarf over their face, so I couldn’t tell at all who it might be. The figure was very skinny, and kind of tall, but I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman; the afternoon sun was covered by just enough clouds that I had no idea.

Why in the world would someone be following a random girl walking home from school? I wondered, then answered my own question: Because they’re a stalker, or a psycho, or both. Probably both.

I kept walking, and the figure followed. Or maybe........ I thought, Maybe they’re not following a random girl. Maybe they were waiting for me.....what if-- NO! I forced myself not to think that way; forced myself not to think that someone night know my secret. I also tried not to think about what might happen if my secret got out into the open. The figure in black was still following me, not even trying to hide that fact. I formed a plan in my head as I continued walking.

Sagara

The girl kept walking, glancing over her shoulder at me every few seconds. I realized that she was heading towards the ocean, and I started to run, hoping to stop her from getting to the water. If she went into the water, I couldn’t follow her to see if I was right about her. I wouldn’t be able to catch her without exposing my secret. If I was right about the girl, then my secret was also her secret. But if I was wrong and she wasn’t marked, then I couldn’t let her find out what I was. It was a risky business. Suddenly the girl glanced back again, saw me running towards her, and (predictably) started to run as well. I was almost to her when she took her backpack off her back and used it as a club, knocking me to the ground.

“Get away from me you psycho!” she screamed. I started to laugh at this--I am many things, but a psycho isn’t one of them-- and a shocked look came over the girl’s face at the sound of my voice. “You’re a girl!” She said. I wasn’t sure if that was a statement or a question, but either way I was laughing too hard to answer. Her face quickly changed from surprise to confusion (probably because she couldn’t figure out why I was laughing) to anger. She started to ask a question:

“Who are you--”

“Oh, don’t do the classic ‘who are you what do you want’ thing.” I said, finally able to stop laughing. She gave me a half I-think-you’re-a-creepy-nut-job and half I-hate-you-right-now look. Then she held her backpack up like she was going to hit me again.

I stood up with my hands in the air like I was surrendering. She lowered her pack. 

“Why were you following me?” she demanded. Instead of answering, I quickly crouched down and swung my leg out, knocking her legs out from under her and leaving her laying in the sand and out of breath. I kicked the backpack away from her with one black combat boot, drew one of my daggers from its place on my belt, and knelt down so I was closer to her face.

“If I were you, I would be very quiet. Screaming could make me accidentally drop my knife.” I dangled the dagger above her chest. “Also, if I were you, I’d be very still.” The girl nodded vigorously. I sheathed my blade and stood up, and she did as well. Suddenly, she yanked on the scarf that I had wrapped over my head and face. It came loose, my carefully pinned up hair falling into my eyes. Taking my distraction as an opportunity to run, the girl took off down the shore. I cursed and started to run after her again, but then got an idea. I picked a small stone up off the sand, then proceeded to throw it at the girl’s head. It hit her with enough force to knock her down. She yelled in pain. I ran up to where she knelt rubbing the spot on her head where the stone had hit her.

“I said, if I were you, I wouldn’t try to run; I’d be very still.” I said to her as I grabbed her arm and helped her up. She sighed as if in defeat, then pushed me with such force that I let go of her and stumbled back. My long, strawberry blond hair got in my eyes again, and I hastily pushed it away from my face and stood up.

“You said if you were me you wouldn’t run.” the girl yelled back as she ran. “But you’re not me!” she continued to run, all the way up to the docks, and clambered up the beach to lean against a building.

Angry and at the end of my rope, I unsheathed a dagger and took aim. I threw the blade with all my strength, and it drove home. It went straight into the hood of the girl’s jacket. She yelped at the sight of a sharp blade three millimeters from her head, and tried to break free, but my dagger had lodged itself in the wall behind her, sticking her in place. I ran up, tired and out of breath by now, and stood in front of her. She started to unzip her jacket, but I took the other of my two knives and held it to her throat.

“Please.” I said slowly. “Please let me explain myself.” she glared at me, but didn’t protest, so I took her silence as an ok. “I was following you,” I said, unzipping her jacket just enough to be able to see her neck, “Is because I wanted to see this.” I gestured at the tear shaped scar on her neck. I smiled triumphantly. I had been right about this girl. She was marked.

“That’s nothing, just from when I crashed my bike when I was little.” she said. Now it was my turn to glare at her.

“I’m not stupid.” I told her angrily. “I know what this is.” I pointed to the scar again. “That didn’t happen in a bike crash, and we both know it.”

“Who are you?” she asked. In form of an answer, I drew my hair back and tilted my head to the side, showing her the teardrop shaped scar on my own neck.

Kaia

(A Halfling)

I gasped in shock when I saw the girl’s scar. She dropped her hair and it immediately went back into her eyes. She cursed quietly as she tried to put the strawberry blond mass behind her ears, but it refused to be tamed. A lot like mine, I realized.

“Who else in this town is marked?” she asked, pointing to our teardrop scars. Her voice suddenly sounded colder than it had before; almost cruel. It made me unsure whether to trust her.

“There’s no one else.” I lied. She narrowed her eyes and emitted a small growling noise.

“That’s a lie.” she hissed. “I know there are others in this town, I just don’t know which people they are and where they live. It took me forever to track you down, now I need your help to find the others.”

“You know, you still haven’t really explained why you chased me and stuck a knife through my favorite jacket.” I said, irritated. She looked down at her feet as if embarrassed, and sheathed the knife that had been at my throat. The other blade stayed in my jacket hood, however.

“It was because I wanted to see if you were marked.” she said. “I wanted to see if I was right about you.” She took the dagger out of my hood, but grabbed my arm hard so that I couldn’t run again. “Come on.” She pulled me toward the dock. I struggled, but she tightened her grip so much that it hurt.

“What are you doing?” I yelled at her as we approached the edge of the dock. She stopped right before walking off the end. I was about to sigh in relief, but never got to, because at that moment she jumped into the freezing cold water below, dragging me along with her.

I could feel the transformation starting, and struggled to keep it at bay. My legs stuck together into a tail and the skin on them grew scales. I grew a fin where my toes should have been. I could feel my eyes adjust to the water, my pupils would have by now turned into vertical slits, like a snake’s. I glanced at my fingers, seeing that they were webbed, and that my fingernails had sharpened themselves into claws. I knew that my teeth would have done the same; sharpened themselves into needle-like points.

The scary knife wielding girl reminded me she was there by releasing her grip on my arm (I had forgotten she had even been holding onto me). I looked over at her, and my heart nearly stopped to see that she had a tail too.

“You’re--”

“A Halfling. Like you.” she nodded as she finished my sentence for me. I was about to respond when we heard muffled footsteps from above. The girl ushered me under the dock, and we surfaced only once safe under the dock’s wooden boards. The footsteps were right above us, and less muffled now that our heads (and therefore ears) were above the water. They sounded like the person was walking kind of fast, whoever they were.

The footsteps stopped at the end of the pier, and I was completely silent. The other girl was quiet too. Probably quieter than me; she had shallowed her breathing to short, noiseless breaths. Then the footsteps started again, back up the dock toward the shore.

Once we couldn’t hear them anymore, we both simultaneously sighed in relief. I laughed a little at this, and she smiled. Then she sheathed her knife; even after the transformation her belt still hung at her waist.

After a moment we hoisted ourselves out of the water, onto the pier. The transfiguration reversed itself; my tail shed its scales and my fin shrunk back into toes, my claws reverted back into regular fingernails, etc. I looked over to the other girl and saw that she had already finished her transformation back to human form, and was now beginning to walk across the sand and toward the town.

“After all that, you’re just going to leave like nothing ever happened?” I yelled incredulously as she strolled leisurely away from the ocean. I shook my head in disbelief, but as I walked way back down the beach to where I had left my backpack, then continued on my way home, I knew that I would most likely be seeing her again.