Flora of the Sea, Mirta of the Land
A Sapphic Short Story, Fiction
Mirta sits on the ledge, her feet dangling. Her thick brown hair dances in the wind as she watches the waves crash against the cruise ship. She closes her eyes and breathes in the cold, night breeze. The salty ocean air fills her nostrils as she takes in a deep breath. She looks up at the stars that glisten in the black sky. Tears slowly trail from the outer corners of her eyes and into her hair. The lights of the ship illuminate the surface of the ocean, and all Mirta can think about is how she could jump any minute, and no one will hear her. No one will see her. No one will remember her, let alone look for her body as it floats in the sea. Her hands grip the ledge as she quietly sobs, her body shaking. There is nothing left for her in this world.
Her thoughts spiral, remembering the look of disapproval and disgust on her father’s face when she came out to her family. How his words cut through her like knives when he told her that people like her were better off dead. She takes a dramatic deep breath and closes her eyes. The sound of the tide dancing rhythmically soothes her, calming the rapid beat of her heart. A sensation of readiness to let go of this life consumes her as the ocean calls for her.
When the fear dissipates, she lets out a quiet laugh, and the corner of her lips curl into a delicate smile at the thought that she will finally be at peace. She stands on the ledge for a moment, her eyes shut, and her heart slowly beating as she steps forward into the abyss. Her heart skips a beat as she crashes into the icy cold ocean. The freezing temperatures erase all the bad memories and all the pain she feels to be alive. No one can hurt her anymore.
***
From underneath the crashing waves, Flora watches Mirta slowly, and shakily stand up on the ledge. Her eyes fill with sadness for the human and blood rushes to her ears as she contemplates stopping her from plunging into her demise. But Flora knows better than to disturb the creatures of land. Despite this, she fights against herself and the rules of the secret world under the sea.
She tries to come up with ways to give Mirta hope, ways to make her want to stay alive. She battles with the temptation to interfere. To expose herself to not only stranger, but a human. In the back of Flora’s mind, she knows mermaids are supposed to remain mythical creatures. For the sole reason that humans are notoriously vicious and do not know how to coexist with other’s not like them. Well, at least that’s what she’s been told to believe by her colony. But she refuses to accept that those who live on land are as ruthless as they have been made out to be. How could they be? The one before her appears gentle and kind.
While Mirta is falling, Flora’s heart pounds with sorrow, as if a part of her is linked to the human in some way. She takes in the tragic beauty of the human as the moon shines off her golden brown skin.
Flora swims around Mirta in a circle, following her into the darkness, itching to touch her, to lift her back into the dry land. She reaches her hand out, hesitating to caress Mirta’s cheek as her body dives further into the ocean. Flora’s heart sinks to know Mirta has taken her last breath when she sees air bubbles escaping the human. Without thinking, Flora tightly wraps her arms around Mirta’s lifeless body. Swimming back up the ocean, just enough so that her head is above water.
In lightning speed, Flora swims to the nearest peak of dry land. Placing Mirta’s limp body onto the sandy shore. She attempts to revive her by doing what she’s seen from afar when a human drowns. Flora performs chest compressions, and in the midst of leaning in to plant her lips onto the human’s mouth, Mirta coughs up the salty ocean inches from Flora’s face. The urge to run away, to not be seen by her is heavy in Flora’s chest. With eyes wide, she gradually backs away from her.
Mirta’s gasps for air and sits up on the sand, wiping the grainy sand from her hands onto her shirt, and rubs her eyes. Mirta squints, her vision blurry as she sees Flora, her pink hued skin, green scaly fins, and the back of her braided jet black hair.
“Am I… dead?” Mirta asks with a weakness to her soft tone.
Before re-entering the ocean, Flora reluctantly turns around to face her. The softness of Mirta’s voice draws her in. There was something about Mirta’s tone that compels her to stay for just a moment longer.
“You’re not anymore…” Flora says, softly smiling. She looks back at the ocean, and it calls to her, a reminder that humans are not to be interacted with. But how could a human, like the one before her, be all the horrible things she was brought up to fear.
“Please…” Mirta reaches out to Flora, her fingertips touching Flora’s soft and moist skin. “Don’t leave me. I’m scared.”
Flora’s stomach flutters to hear Mirta plea for her company. Flora has never felt wanted in this way before, and it intrigues her. She peers back toward the ocean, biting her cheek. How could she leave a human stranded on an island? She lets out a deep sigh and caves into her.
They lie next to each other, side by side, gazing at the night sky.
“I’m Mirta.”
“Flora.”
“Flora… That’s a beautiful name.”
A yearning develops, as their fingers nearly touch. While in the warm silence, they listen to the waves flirt with the land. Both of them knowing, deep down, in that moment, that a new chapter in their stories is being written. An unspeakable bond between two creatures, one of land and the other of sea.
beautiful!!
This is nice!