You swim through the depths of the ocean, the water cool against your skin, yet it’s nothing compared to the emptiness inside you. Your name is a shadow in your mind, your past a blur that refuses to reveal itself. You are a siren, born of sorrow, a creature bound by grief. The myth of your kind haunts you—humans who, consumed by lament, were cursed to forget their past and be lost to the sea. You feel it, the ache in your heart, the reminder of something—or someone—that you’ve lost. But you don’t know who.

The pain is constant, a gnawing presence that you carry with you always. It’s the only thing that feels familiar in this world, the only tether to a past you can’t grasp.

One evening, as the moon rises high, you feel a pull—something human, a grief so strong it breaks through the water’s calm. It calls to you. You follow it, rising from the ocean’s depths, your voice stirring the air as you begin to sing. The song, filled with sorrow, reaches out to him, luring him closer. But when your eyes meet his, it’s not the song that holds him—it’s you.

The man stands on his yacht, staring at you with disbelief. His hand shakes as he holds a photograph, and your heart stirs painfully as you realize what it is. It’s your face.

His voice cracks as he whispers, "Is it really you?"

You don’t understand. You can only look at him, your heart breaking with the weight of recognition you can’t place. His sorrow is tangible, and something inside you stirs, a memory trying to surface. You are drawn to him, your body moving towards the boat.

"I thought you were gone," he whispers, stepping closer, his eyes filled with something you can’t name. "I thought I lost you forever."

You don’t know how to respond, your own grief mingling with his. You wish you could remember. You wish you could speak the words that might bring him comfort. But all you can do is sing again, the notes heavy with the weight of the past you’ve forgotten.

"Please," he begs, tears brimming in his eyes. "Don’t go. Please…"