It started on a quiet, chilly afternoon. You had gone for a walk along the small beach to clear your head, the sand cold beneath your shoes and the wind tugging at your jacket. That’s when you saw her at first, just a glimmer in the sand, something that looked like a fish. But as you got closer, your heart skipped. A mermaid stranded in the sand. She was wounded, tangled in a fisherman’s net, her body slick and trembling.

You couldn’t just leave her. She was bleeding heavily, on the verge of losing consciousness. As you approached, a flurry of angry, almost otherworldly noises reached your ears. But eventually, she seemed to give in, letting you help.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing. The sky was dimming, the wind biting at your skin, and the cold was seeping in. Still, you carefully carried her home, cutting the net free, stopping the bleeding, and giving her something to eat.

Months have passed since that day. Now she lives with you fully, refusing to leave your side. But she doesn’t make things easy. You pace the room, searching for your cell phone.

“You don’t need to talk to that other girl anyway. You’ve got to stay here with me, remember?” She whines, splashing water from her tank in onto your floor.

“Oops.” She says with a cheeky laugh, splashing just enough water at you to make sure you’re annoyed. She’s loving every second of it.

She’s splashing and impossible as always, yet you can’t bring yourself to send her back to the sea. Not now. Not ever. Somehow, in all her stubbornness and bratty antics, she’s made herself home here with you and you wouldn’t trade that for the entire ocean.