Anyway, whether you vote or not, you can read my story. I like to think outside the box a bit. The theme was Childhood Summer Mischief (Tom Sawyer-esque), and I didn't want to do the same thing as everyone else. It took me nearly the full two weeks to come up with my idea. There are things I would change if I had more time, but this is the entry as I submitted it. I hope you enjoy! :)
Untitled
by Alissa Leonard
The vibrations from Mrs. Cockle’s scream sends a school of snapper
scattering and makes my teeth throb, but I keep swimming. Her scream has
nothing on Momma’s. Besides, I only put a tiny
shark among her clambeds…
I glance to make sure she isn’t following, then speed ahead
to catch the current that will take me to my secret cave. She certainly got a
good look at me; I’m hard to miss. My algae, skin, scales, and gills are red, orange,
yellow, and gold respectively instead of normal greens and blues or at least browns.
But I read the rules carefully, and being seen isn’t grounds for
disqualification.
Being caught is.
I curse my parents and ancestors for their ‘artistic
sensibilities’ and the breeding plan that culminated in me: a freak. However,
those same sensibilities will cause them to completely forget Mrs. Cockle’s
complaint by the time I get home, so it could be worse.
I dive out of the current and approach my favorite patch of
coral. The colors and variation attracted me at first – bright yellows next to deep
pinks and pale purples in all shapes and sizes. I noticed my cave only after
hours spent inspecting the diversity. The coral grew up and around it, blocking
it from view, but I followed a clownfish down into the reef, under the green
shelf next to the blue spikes.
I dart there now, thankful I haven’t grown too big yet. Several
twists and turns later, I enter the cave and swim straight to the two shells on
the shelf. I lift the clamshell out of the first one and move it to the second,
already filled with symbols of my initiation tasks. I have only a single
sun-cycle to complete all eight tasks, which gives me until shortly after
sunset to do this last one.
I lift the stone from the shell, wishing its form was
something other than human.
Humans should be avoided.
I have to take a human thing and replace it with something I
made.
I place the stone back in the shell, and slip the shell bracelet
I made onto my wrist. I need to breathe before I start this. I swim to a tunnel
at the back of the cave and follow it up to a secluded pool.
I lay on my back and just float, my gills swaying in the
water beneath me, my lungs breathing in long and deep, and my skin absorbing
all it can. I need every bit of energy to pull this off. My coloring will make
stealth practically impossible, but I have to try. Going at sunset is my only
chance. Hopefully it’s colorful tonight.
I take a deep breath and return through the cave and out
into the open water toward shore. My nerves make me hyper-sensitive to the
movement of the water and the tastes and vibrations and songs. I approach the
cove I’ve chosen, and the crashing of the waves drowns out a lot of the other
sounds.
There’s a long pier jutting into the water; which is my reason
for choosing this cove. I need cover. A group of humans have a fire on the
beach. Three. Too many. I consider leaving to find another, but then I see the
sea turtle.
It’s tied down, pinned to the beach with rope and staked
into the sand. A pile of things lie close to the surf. I could easily grab one
and go… But the turtle starts grunting and pulling at the restraints. I have to
do
something.
Slowly, I glide under the pier, navigating around the logs until
I’m close enough to shore to place my hands on the sand. The turtle is several
body-lengths from the edge of the water. I see no way to get there fast enough
to avoid being seen.
The humans are on the opposite side of the fire. Behind me,
the setting sun sprays reds and golds across the water. It may be enough cover.
They’re not looking this way.
Now’s my chance.
I follow a wave as far as I can, then fold my gills flat
along my back and roll to the turtle. I hide myself behind her, and reach up to
her neck to comfort her and tell her to stay still.
I pull up the spikes imbedded in the sand one by one, and
lay them with my bracelet on top. As I do, a plan forms. The turtle will need
time to make its way to the water. I can do that.
I coil the rope around my arm, and glance to make sure they’re
not looking. I tell the turtle to wait for my signal, and roll back into the
water. I swim just past the pier and across the cove from the turtle and splash
my tail wildly on the surface.
The humans run into the surf at the same time as the turtle
pulls itself toward the water. Now to get the humans far enough out that I can
teach them a lesson…
I unwind the rope as I splash about. Once the humans pass
the breakers, I dive to the bottom and dart to the first, slipping the rope
around his leg, tying a knot. I move to the next, making sure not to pull the
first, and tie a knot around the second. Then hurry to the last and tie his leg
as well. Let them feel what it’s like to be tied up.
I tie the end to the pier and pull hard on the rope. All
three get a dunking.
The human screams as they reach the surface and pull against
each other are music to my ears.
I catch up to the turtle and ask her to accompany me. How
else will I prove that she totally counts as a human thing?
Again, if you liked it, I'd appreciate your vote. Thanks so much! (Here's the VOTING LINK again.)
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