tragedy-art (November-2024)

The Aquarion

A light ‘breeze’ fluttered around me. Soft, cool wind. The air was lukewarm. My mind seemed to be filled with clear space. I opened a heavy eye, and felt a few small air bubbles floating up and away from my nose, into the deep, deep space. The last few.

Drowning!

I wrenched my eyes open, my limbs seeming to freeze up. My instinct told me to jerk my head up, but I only managed a short distance before I felt my back arching, and all I could do in that moment was squeeze my lips tight together. Shapes loomed over me, and it was then I realised I was swimming in darkness.

It took another shape to my side for me to realise, to my horror, that I was not swimming, but sinking. I felt my head get heavy, weighing me down as I slowly looked up in classic, confused shock. What was white empty space was suddenly filled with murky, grey lines. Lines and shadows and spirals. The shapes were ringing in my ears. Then the sound jerked into a melodious hum, and I felt pulled down by an invisible force. Head first into the bottom of the sea, seconds ticking away as I slowly, but to dense relief, found that I was no longer struggling to breathe.

Then I saw a big, jagged, wooden crescent shape on the sea floor. A ship? I blinked. A heavy weight tugged on my chest. All of a sudden, the force around my neck disappeared and I instinctively spun around onto my feet. Smoothly. Until I realised I had no feet. Or I did, but they were peeling off. Merging into one smooth, sleek tail.

But then I saw a mirror on the floor of the shipwreck. I stared into the mirror, my palms melting and disintegrating as my fingers grew webs and clamped around my scaly, dull face. Oh. I watched as my humanity seemed to disappear before my very watching eyes, sapped into the sea floor.

(This is totally about Aquarion and their species)