Having found each other, the two parts of her self, she realized that the person she was, the little girl under the water, was no longer. Time passes, whether we like it or not, and sometimes the only new beginnings come from an ending.
In leaving the water, coming to safe harbor on solid ground, she found her life full of more trouble than she'd imagined. Anger, hurtful and mean, and many lonely hours. She was never lonely when she sat with her mother brushing her strawberry blond hair. There was no going back, though. Only moving forward.
When her days of swimming and moonlight ended, her days of stomping in puddles began. Forgetting any puddle on that path to her new life was impossible. But wondering about the future, what lies ahead, is just as bitter as it is as full of joy.
Nothing is more difficult than goodbye.
She washes dishes, hoping everyone else will just leave her alone. Enough yelling, already. As the soapy bubbles fill the sink, she pulls out a chair to stand on so she can reach the bottom of the sink. She's careful not to get her strawberry blond hair in the soapy water but still it drags through the oily water and she gives up, putting it back into a pony tail.
The stars are visible out her window and she catches herself daydreaming about having her toes in the sand. Maybe she can talk them into taking her to the river. It's better than nothing in the middle of a cold winter, after all.
Some day, I'll live at the bottom of the ocean and I won't have to deal with him, mad all the time. She daydreams and wonders what it feels like to have gills.
The small girl sits at the bottom of the ocean, watching the boys on the boat pull in their nets. She knows that the nets are dangerous, that the men are not supposed to see her. But there is something about watching them pull in their nets full of fish and crabs and sea life that makes her happy and sad, all at the same time.
Her friends grow tired of the game and wander off to play hide and seek but she stays, watching them, wondering what it must feel like to have toes. Do they ever itch? Are they ticklish?
In a sudden instant, a net floats by and somehow tangles itself in her hair.
