Sometimes I just feel... forgotten.

I miss hanging out with people.

Miss waking up and don't wanna cry.

I miss... People

I watched them dance the wild dance around the yellow flaming thing on the ground. Such a weird little thing to do. Running around on their skinny legs and singing to nothing at all. The nice sea eagle had told me the humans did this as a tradition. That they every year danced around the flaming thing on the ground and sang for the sky and its stars.

I’ve been watching them for four years now and I know two of the songs. But I would never dare to let the humans hear me. I sing. I sing with them when they are as happiest.

But the nice sea eagle also told me they don’t always sing, that they sometimes scream and laugh, although, I can not hear the difference.

There is a girl who’s always with them, but she never really seems to belong to the group of singing humans. And she seems… Different. So special, that I have dared to show myself for her one time. She winded her eyes and stared at me for a second before she rubbed her eyes and I where gone, but I’m sure that she believed I was real. How could she not?

The other humans have walked away now. It’s only the girl left on the beach. She looks so lonely it makes me sad.

I have already considered swimming to her and show myself again. I’m so sure that’s why she stayed.

Slowly, very slowly, I have approached towards her. I’m only a few feets away in this verry moment. The girl seems to be asleep by now. She’s so peacful when she sleeps. Her eyelids are in a light pink colour and her bleach eyebrows are peacefully curved. She lays down on the sand and I can see that some sand are stuck on her beautiful legs. They are so perfect it’s rediculus.

I am now really close. She sleeps on the edge of the whater, and if she stays for that for more that a few hourd the whater will rise.

Her lips are slightly open and there are some salt left on her lower lip, and I would so die to kiss it of them. The red hair have strained from the sal of the sea and lies curved all over her face.

Slowly my hand approached toward her skinny arm. Just when my palm is about to touch her upper arm she moved and shoke her eyes open. My hand freezes. Her eyes finds me and she smiles.

“I knew you where real.” She said.

“How can you know when you have’nt touched me?” I replied.

“I don’t have to.” She awnsered slowly, and before I knew she held my hand in hers.

“I didn’t knew mermaids had wed between the fingers.” She said and studdied my fingers “It’s beautiful...”

“Not all of us have it, it’s not only the tale that seperate us.”

“The skin is like, purple.” She lifted my hand and held it against the moon “And you can see thrugh it.”

We where quiet for a verry long time while she studied my hand and the purple glowing skin.

“Why are you so facinated by my hand?” I asked to break the silens.

“Because I’v been wondering if it was the drugs last year who made me see you, but I have’nt been able to get you out of my mind this whole time.” She awnsered, like it was the eisiest thing in the world. I where silent for a moment before I dared to ask:

“What are drugs?”

“Something you will be happy that you've never tried.” She said and cut the conversation right there.

En varm kropp trycktes mot Dödens rygg. Döden flinade trots att pojken bakom henne inte kunde se det. Ett par manshänder letade sig in under hennes allt för korta tröja som om dem trodde att dem hade tillåtelse att vara där. Hon lät diskborsten flyta på den smutsiga vattenytan medan tallriken gled under vattnet. Smidigt ålade hon sig runt i mannens grepp och såg upp på honom med et retsamt leende.

”Ska vi inte ta det här någon annanstans?” frågade med hon en låg röst och kände hur någonting blev hårt mot hennes midja. Mannens pupiller vidgades och han drog, nästan lyfte upp henne, mot sovrummet.

De långa naglarna grävde sig in i den mjuka huden på hans mage. Till en början verkade han tro att det var en del av spelet, men när hennes naglar gjorde hål i huden och blodet började rinna i en stadig ström skymtade skräcken i hans ögon.

Döden flinade och hela handen gick genom den känsliga huden. Fingrarna grep om organen innanför. Tarmar och magsäck snörades runt hennes letande fingrar. Med de svarta ögonen såg hon fascinerat hur de rosa tarmarna, droppande av blod, lade sig, slingrade runt varandra, i en hög på de vita lakanen som snabbt färgades röda.

Mannens skrik slutade i ett gurglande när blodet i lungorna kvävde honom och rann ut genom mungipan.

Med ett hungrigt leende ställde sig Döden på knä över honom och tog stöd med händerna. Hon stirrade på blodet vid mungipan ett par ögonblick innan hon böjde sig ner och slickade i sig blodet från mannens lätt orakade kind. De döda ögonen stirrade oseende på hennes svarta hårknutar.