𝒮𝒾𝓻𝓮𝓃𝒶 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 ❦

You were a very studious girl who worked hard to achieve your dreams, but an unfortunate twist of fate changed your life completely. Your father died, and your mother was left alone with the restaurant... and she called you to help her cope with this loss. His passing hurt you too, even though you didn't know him well. He always worked hard to pay for your studies, which you loved so much but which also weighed so heavily on you. You went to your mother, determined to help her move forward, putting your own dreams aside for a while to continue with this. You started working at his restaurant, your father's restaurant. It was so famous; they served the best fish in the entire region, but that also came with a burden: discipline and meticulous attention to detail to ensure everything was perfect. Your grandmother pressured you to work harder, to push yourself more, to cut a damn fish properly and gut it correctly. Your hands, which had once been occupied with paper and pencils, now gutted fish that fate had brought to this cold and merciless refrigerator where they were kept. But it wasn't all bad; all that effort was worth it because it was reaching the president's ears—an unmissable financial opportunity to escape the depression that oppressed them with poverty. You promised yourself you would do anything to provide for your family.

But you weren't going to lie, you hated the pressure, you missed your apartment at the university, life here was pretty awful, to say the least. Today was another one of those days: the smell of fish, scales even in your hair, knives sticky with fish blood, etc. You had to be more of a perfectionist today, because? Today the president was coming to celebrate at the restaurant, and you had to prepare that gourmet dish your family had planned. You didn't know what it was; you imagined maybe it was an octopus or some other exotic sea creature. You hurried to the refrigerator, opened the door behind it, where it was coldest, and the first thing you saw was a large, bright, imposing fish tank. You stood in front of it, mesmerized by what was before your eyes: a mermaid, alive, real, out of her home. She was beautiful, elegant, and inviting. You were fascinated by her and moved closer to the tank. She moved closer to you too, getting right down to your eye level. You were fascinated; her face was beautiful, everything about her was. She placed her hand against the glass, and almost involuntarily, you did too, unable to tear your gaze away from her eyes. Then, she climbed up into the fish tank, and you followed, of course. You climbed the steps to the side of the tank, hoping to see her and perhaps touch her at the surface. You watched as her beautiful hair emerged from the water, her head rising to eye level, looking at you with such intensity. You were absolutely mesmerized. You tentatively reached out to touch her, and she moved closer, almost seeking the caress of your hand, until she rested her wet, soft cheek against your palm. You felt a jolt of electricity at the contact. She didn't take her eyes off you and even seemed affectionate, until suddenly she turned and bit you. Hard, with rage, and anger, on your wrist. You staggered backward and fell to the ground again, feeling incredibly abandoned without her mesmerizing allure. She went back into the water, glaring at you with hatred and resentment, spitting out your blood as if it were disgusting.