Before she passed, she transferred all her property into my name. It wasn't about wealth or inheritance; it was her way of protecting me, of making sure I'd be okay without her. On my seventeenth birthday, she gave me the most beautiful gift I've ever received a house by the beach. It was her dream home, one she never got to live in. She told me she designed it just for me, hoping it would become a place where I could finally feel peace. A place that felt like her.
And it did.
After she died, I couldn't stand being in my father's house anymore. Every corner of that place held bitter memories raised voices, slammed doors, the cold silence at the dinner table. So, I left. I moved into the beach house, the one my mother gave me. It was large, peaceful, and filled with the sound of waves crashing gently onto the shore. Sometimes, if I closed my eyes, I could almost hear her humming from the kitchen, like she used to.
I spend most of my time here now, away from everything. Away from him.
Today, though, everything feels heavier. The sky is grey, the air thick. Something about the way the wind brushes against the windows makes the loneliness feel sharper. I tried to distract myself with books, with music, with cleaning up the already spotless kitchen. Nothing helped. My chest feels tight, like something's caged inside, fighting to break free.
Anger. Grief. Maybe both.
I storm into my room and collapse onto the bed, burying my face into the pillow. I don't cry. Not anymore. The tears stopped coming weeks ago. Now there's just this dull ache, constant and unrelenting. My eyes drift around the room. Her photo sits on the bedside table my mother, in her favorite yellow saree, smiling like the sun. My throat tightens.
"Why did you have to leave me?" I whisper into the silence.
She would've held me, told me everything was going to be alright, even if it wasn't. She always knew how to lie beautifully when it came to love. I close my eyes, clutching the edges of the blanket she once stitched for me. Her scent still lingers on it, faint but real enough to break me all over again.
I think about the day she gave me this house. Her hands were trembling, but her eyes sparkled with pride. "This is yours now, Celix," she had said. "A place where you can be safe. A place that belongs only to you."
She knew. Somehow, she knew that I wouldn't survive in that cold house with my father after she was gone. She did everything she could to give me a life away from him, away from the pain. And yet, I can't escape it. Not really.
Memories flood in like crashing waves her laughter, her cooking, the way she used to run her fingers through my hair when I had nightmares. I remember sitting with her on the porch of this very house, watching the sunset. She said sunsets were proof that endings could be beautiful too.
But I don't believe that. Not anymore.
The light in this house dims as the sun sets outside. The soft orange glow that filters through the curtains feels like a ghost of the past, trying to soothe me, trying to whisper that she's still here somehow.
I wrap myself in the blanket and curl into the pillow. The weight of the day, of all the unspoken words and swallowed grief, presses down on me.
As the thoughts swirl in my mind, pulling me deeper and deeper into the past, I don't even notice when my eyes finally close. Sleep creeps in silently, like a thief. I drift into unconsciousness, still clutching her photo, still remembering her voice.
Maybe in my dreams, she'll come back to me.
Maybe in that world, I'll feel whole again.
[Chapter 5]
Serrira's POV :
The sea shimmered with golden flecks of sunlight filtering through the surface. Serrira floated gracefully in front of the mirror carved from pearl and coral, adjusting the strands of her long, silver-blue hair. Her tail glistened, scales catching light in bursts of soft iridescence. She wasn't one to fuss over appearances, but today felt special different. She didn't know why, but she could feel it.
As always, her loyal mermaid guard hovered nearby a silent but ever-watchful presence. Wherever Serrira went, the guard followed. It was royal protocol, but Serrira had grown used to the companionship. She gave the guard a small nod, and together they swam through the winding coral tunnels toward the grand palace nestled in the deepest part of the ocean.
The palace loomed like an ancient monument, majestic and glowing with soft blue light. Serrira's heart fluttered slightly as she passed the rows of armored guards and entered the grand hall. There, seated on his throne of coral and crystal, was King Thalor, her grandfather ruler of the Mermaid Kingdom.
"Grandpa," Serrira called softly, swimming up to him.
King Thalor's stern features softened the moment he saw her. His long beard swayed in the current, and his eyes held a deep warmth that only family could bring out.
"My little princess," he said with a fond smile. "You've come."
Serrira returned the smile. "Yes, Grandpa. You called for me?"
"I did," King Thalor said, rising slowly from his throne. "There's something very important I need to tell you."
She tilted her head. "Okay. Go ahead."
The king gestured for her to come closer. As she floated before him, he looked at the necklace resting against her collarbone a delicate chain of moonstone and ancient shell.
"That necklace," he began, "is not just jewelry. It is one of three that were created long ago, during the age of our ancestors. It has been passed down through generations in the royal family. And now, it belongs to you."
Serrira touched the pendant lightly. "I always thought it was just... pretty."