The Call Of The Sirens

The sirens.

They’re calling to me.

I reach for my noise cancelling headphones, but it’s already too late. My body responds to the sirens’ alluring melody as it slowly makes its way towards it.

I beg my legs to turn around and walk the other direction, but they refuse to listen. I inch closer towards the shore, the salty aroma becoming more potent in my nostrils. It’s as if my mind and body are two separate beings, taking control of their own individual selves.

Fear throbs in my veins, ringing in my ears. My breathing becomes shallow. Father and mother have lost their lives in these waters, and I’m about to unwillingly do the same.

The harmonies crescendo.

They know I’m here.

I can almost hear my parents with each passing wave, imploring me to turn back. But the sirens are louder. I can only lose myself in the beautiful voices.

The cold water creeps up my legs, raising goosebumps on my skin. Lingering mist on the ocean’s surface begin to dissipate, revealing large rocks that provided a ledge for the sirens to rest on.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the sirens were gone. Their silhouettes vanished from atop the rocks. The voices remain, carried to me by the wind that forked through my hair, instead calling my name.

“Eliza . . .”

My body freezes in place, no longer knowing where to go.

“Eliza . . .”

It’s only a few hundred feet away until I’m back to shore. If I run now, I’ll—

My legs!

Something is grabbing onto my legs!

I want to flail, shout, scream, anything!

But before I can, I am pulled down, unable to cry out before water fills my mouth and lungs.

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