She would do it today; today she would become healthy again.
Cecilia sat scantily clothed on the pier. It was winter, so nobody was there. Again, she was alone, but this time she felt the fluid voices calling to her from amid the crashing waves. The rocks below did not frighten her with their sharp, dark edges rising from the water. As soft as swan feathers she saw them, undulating to the curves of a blackbird's bare back. The steaming froth of the freezing water jumped high upon hitting the pier's edge. The wind rendered her dark hair dishevelled even under the knitted hat she had recived from Dorian three Christmases ago.
No one was there, thus no one saw what she looked like. She was wearing the wedding dress she had worn on the Eve of Dorian's death. Strikingly white against the wet grey of the pier, her dress flew under the strength of the wind. On her fingers she had the three rings Dorian had given her - emerald, diamond and pearl. Around her neck was the white gold necklace she had received for her birthday; above her heart was the dove brooch she had fallen in love with while walking down Broadway and which Dorian had bought for her. The hat, the dress, the jewellery - wrecked vestiges of her love, now abused by the winter winds of the sea.
She took a step forward, and with a breath released her thoughts into the water. She let the waves have her soul, whilist she stared into the same shifting spot of water. Unexpectedly, a sea of bald, translucent arms rose from the waves, reaching for the hem of her dress. Their glowing claws tore the beaded silk as Cecilia understood the betrayal and treachery ebbed on the faces beneath the waves. If Dorian were among the mermaids, he sould have come to greet her and ease her passage. If Dorian had been there, she would have seen his angelic face under the foam, his barley locks and soft lips.
"No!" Cecilia spat at the engulfing, slithering tentacles of the hissing creatures. Half-men, Half-fish, Half-women, Half-scaly - they had risen halfway from the whirlpools and were lashing out at her. Marble, cold-blooded skins were beating agaist the pavement of the pier. She turned round, making a swift escape.
"Come," a distant whisper was heard, making her blood curdle. Then a swish, a slash and a fall. Cecilia was on her knees, scraping the smooth seams of her dress and crushing the glass beads of her dress against the cement into a million particles of dust. As they shattered, all hope was driven away from Cecilia. The hold on he dress was too tight, the hold on her soul was too deviously peevish and perverted to die now. She let go, hoping for nothing, secretly wishing for the fulfillment of the mermaids' promises.
She was swalloed selfishly by the waves, paralysed by their coldness. She never found Dorian. Her soul haunted the ruins of wrecked ships, swaying to the tune of the distant, wordless, meaningless songs of the torturing mermaids. It was the price she had to pay for ever listening to the Whispers and falling prey to the Charms of the Underwater Beasts.
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