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thecandywrites · 1 year

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Monster March 2023 Day 19- Mermaid Part 1

Something Special

Ok, so this has a lot I need to explain about myself before you read the story itself, which I will put under the cut.

But know that this will be taggged with trigger warnings for suicide, self harm, depression, mental breakdowns, nervous breakdowns, etc. And I will do that to keep you- the readers safe. Because you should take control of the media you consume and I do not want any of this to trigger anyone who is sensitive to such subjects or are uncomfortable with any of it. And if this does not sound like your kind of story or something you're not up for or comfortable reading. By all means, move on and find another that will give you the entertainment you are now doubt looking for. No hard feelings, happy and safe readings everyone.

Otherwise, thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 prompt list, you're a life saver. And I mean that in a very literal sense.

So about the story itself. For MerMay a few years ago, a concept I had and then ran with was micro-mermaids. Mermaids that are as big as your fingers. And having a mom and sisters who keep aquariums, mutliple ones too. And while most them have been fresh water, my mom did keep a brackish tank for a while. We were always too poor to do salt water. But growing up with and around those, I know how niche it can be and how much joy and fun and relaxing it can be to just...sit there and watch these little jewles swim around. I'm very partial to guppies myself.

So imagine a world, where micromermaids are treated like venemous snakes are, you have to have special licencing and special certifications to even buy and own one. And so combine that with the aquarium industry, you would have to have special licensing and special certifications to buy, own and especially breed them. But not all breeders are good and responsible ones. I think we've all seen the horrors of the puppy mill industry. So there's a splash of that in here too.

Ok, so what you should know before you really read the story, is- I was totally the ugly duckling, turned beautiful swan type. But I didn't turn into a "beautiful swan" until senior year of high school - of which I graduated early from. So I grew up - the public school system, being largely ignored and being invisible and keeping my head down and blending in with the walls.

However, that was only one aspect of my life. Because that was my school life, in every other aspect, I was very much the "special kid" . Who is now an adult, with severe anxiety, a perfectionist complex, depression, suicidal thoughts and tendancies and someone who was lucky enough to get the intervention I needed and the help I needed through a psyche ward, Intensive Outpatient Psychotherapy and a 6 month Dialetical Behavioral Therapy. since my hopefully last- attempt 8 years ago.

And it didn't help that my dad was a narcissistic perfectionist (ex air-force) and a minister, who only gave love and affection when I performed said perfection to his standards. It meant that I very much was under the microscope to the congregation and always expected to set an example and be "picture perfect", the perfect kid, the perfect student, the perfect daughter to help with the family's "reputation" of being "the perfect family". And of course, purposefully, intentionally kept niave and ignorant to "preserve my purity". And all that fucking stupid bullshit. And I was unlucky in that when I was growing up, and dealing with deteriorating mental health, with a father figure like that, I was- I kid you not- "not allowed" to have mental health issures, because that would "tarnish the family's name and reputation". So I learned to mask at a very early age. And my mask has since, fallen, shattered, a few times over. And I've learned to simply remake it over and over as many times as I've needed to.

But what I've learned over the decades since- is that it is ok to not be ok. And you absolutely should have a support system, and personal boundaries, and autonomy and be given respect and dignity because you're a human being. And if the mask slips and or if the mask falls and shatters, it's not the end of the world. We just try again. And build from scratch if we have to.

And for those that can not fathom ever having these thoughts, I want to give you an illustration to help you wrap your head around this.

No one "earns" the right to be depressed or suicidal. It's like a new phone with those pre-installed apps that you can NEVER uninstall. That will give you push notifications- those notifications being 'you're worthless, you're a monster, you're a burden, you're better off dead, this is never going to stop, this is insufferable, you can't take this, just quit, just end it all, once and for all'- all the time. For those of us who have depression and especially suicidal thoughts and tendancies, we do not choose this. This is just our "factory settings" period.

Now with therapy and perhaps some anti-depressants, especially the right ones, they can either slow down the frequency of the "push notifications" from every 5 seconds to maybe ever five to fifteen minutes or even only a few times a day, if you're really lucky. And they can help you ignore the push notifications that intrude into anything and everything you do. And they can help you swipe them away when they do come up instead of clicking on the notification and staring into all the ugliness and internal darkness and see the laundry list of everything that's wrong that is causing us pain and anguish and guilt and suffering. Or worse yet, see the notification and fantasize about it or worse- agree with it. And then doing something that can not be undone.

However, the day I wrote this , was actually my 8th year anniversary of my last failed suicide attempt. And while I'm happy to be alive now. And I've had many wonderful experiences since then that I absolutely would have missed out on had I been successful.

When and if you decide to read this- you'll see, a lot of that, in this. And that's why this story is tagged with so many trigger warnings.

But what made this anniversary the hardest year yet- was Labor Day of 2022 my cousin, on my dad's side, successfully committed suicide. And now I have all of this survivor's guilt because me and my immediate family were never close with my dad's side of the family. She was my age. Her daughters are my daughter's age. And everything I thought I had dealt with and I thought I had healed and fixed with all my therapy and right medications since- came back up and reared it's ugly head. And I've been struggling ever since and this March has been the hardest since in the last 8 years.

That's why I launched myself into Kinktober last year and now Monster March. Because for me, this is part of my own therapy. And a way to create a world where everything is fine, and nothing hurts. Where I have control in times when I feel like my personal life is out of control, and it's just hit, after hit, after hit. Because in the last two years alone, I've lost 16 people in my personal close friends and family circle. My cousin and my grandfather died less than a month apart. One death, I had seen coming and had prepred myself for, the other took me by surprise and threw me off so bad I'm still reeling.

So this is my chance to make something new and beautiful and helpful and comforting and something that others who may be struggling with this, can have something that they connect with get sympathy and empathy and hopefully seek the help they need. Before they do something that can not be undone.

So, now, with all of that in mind and the forwarning, here's the story.

Monster March Day 19- Merperson- Micro-mermaid.

Something Special

Part 1

Your whole life was spent in a huge community tank. With species of all kinds sharing the tank. And while families more or less had their own “homes”. All the kids tended to stay together and play in the various areas that were meant to keep the kids entertained while the parents, who were always live bearers, always seemed to continuously be popping out new babies. And at a certain point, all the kids went to a huge school in the large community tank. And while most could live just about anywhere, there was a sense of segregation. The guppy micros tended to stay together in their own schools, the neon tetra micros tended to school together, the mollies, and oscars and angels and of course the discus, being the largest micros of the tank. And in your opinion, the most cliquey. However, the older you got, the more separated the sexes of the same age got to be. It started just as the two groups were starting to mature. And of course, that’s when the schooling became more rigorous and more intense that all the girls and all the boys simply stayed in “dorms” at the school itself. The boys on one side and the girls on the other and by that point, it was your school mates in your own “grades” that became more or less like your sisters. The dorms themselves were large hunks of rocks that had holes and paths all throughout. It was like one big piece of swiss cheese. And each girl tended to keep to the different “bunks” that were these naturally occurring caves, fixed up to be little bunks where one could find solitude- to a degree, depending on how many other bunks were throughout.

And the few times the two sexes could see each other in the large hallways there was always some gawking done on both sides. While siblings were the only ones allowed to approach each other. However, that wasn’t to say there weren’t some secret tunnels being dug on both sides when sexually mature and horny teenagers were concerned.

However, all through school, you noticed that the teachers and mentors always seemed to single out the prettiest of the girls and say ‘oh she’s going to go for sure’ to each other when they would eat together while everyone else ate their various meals. And when you tried to ask about it, the teachers would deny ever saying anything. But the girls who were singled out, seemed to spend much more time with the mentors than in the classes with the teachers. And even they would not say anything about it. But always seemed to be more and more detached to the others emotionally and if anything, have a bit of a superiority complex because they had been singled out as “special”, “especially spoiled brats” was more of a fitting title.

Most of you just wanted to get through school so you could go back home. And be with your home communities again and finally get a chance to get on with the rest of your lives.

However, days before graduation, when most of you were looking forward to going back home, suddenly news seemed to spread through the school- all those “special” students who were going to be ‘go’ were all called out of class. And it was as if all the girls who were in that category- blew a breath of relief and seemed to say their quick goodbyes before going with the mentors to wherever they were supposed to go- to.

And then, to your shock, all of you could hear crying in the hallways as you all instinctively swam towards the door to look out and see what was happening. The girls who were previously told they were “so special” all of their school careers were sobbing in the hallways.

“What is going on? Why are they crying in the hallway?” You asked the teacher.

“Oh, the poor dear.” Mrs. Coolie tsked with a shake of her head.

“Ok, girls, girls, please, sit down.” She instructed as she swam to get everyone back into their seats.

“Now, let me explain what’s going on…” She began before the mentors were back.

“I need all of the guppy micros.” Mrs. Dalma insisted before you and the other guppies around you seemed to gulp nervously and began to collect your things.

“Leave your things, I need you all to come with me right now!” Mrs. Dalma, the most intimidating of the mentors, snapped before all of you immediately dropped them and quickly swam to her before you got into the hallway and away from where all the other girls were sobbing into each other’s shoulders in a small room.

“Into here.” Mrs. Dalma insisted before a special door opened to reveal a small room, made of plexiglass all around. And many humans were on the other side.

“Into the room!” Mrs. Dalma practically barked and then pushed all of you into it then made you all “stand” apart while the humans looked more closely at all of you individually.

Now while you all were used to the various humans, who you all knew and recognized who fed you and cared for you. These were different humans and you did not like the way they were looking at you and the others. But Mrs. Dalma was going down the line, showing you off like you were some…pedigree pet!

And that’s when all of it began to make sense. The owner of the tank was selling off their better “stock” in their tank.

When it was your turn, she had you spread your fins to show them off, before you were directed to swim across the box. And then brace your hands down on the floor while you had your fins spread out from the side and suddenly everyone crowded around the box and took pictures and then the lights shut off and then a special light was directed at you and when they did that, your body lit up in a way you had never known it could. And that’s when a bidding war broke out over you among all of them. Apparently something about the pattern on your body and fins was something they liked and wanted. And if it wasn’t for Mrs. Dalma actually holding your fins out like a sheet or blanket, you wanted to shrink in on yourself. The pattern was something you had never seen before, and neither had the others apparently.

“Keep straight and keep your fins out.” Mrs. Dalma ordered through her smile of gritted teeth as she held your fins up and then had the others do the same so you wouldn’t “tire out”.

Your whole life you were used to being seen as nothing special, just a regular dark guppy micro with a nonsensical pattern on your body, fins and tail. To you- in normal lights, your coloring wasn’t all that different than the others, you didn’t feel that your beauty exceeded any others the way the “special” girls always seemed to point out. If anything, you were the opposite! They were “classically” beautiful with bright, bold, and beautiful colors. If anything, you were dark and in your opinion, rather drab, except for this blob of dots on you. And you were content with that. But several people where now acting like you were the prettiest girl in the whole tank!

What was this madness?

No wonder the others were crying, they must have realized why all of you were separated as kids. Kept single, kept virgin. Kept practically in the dark about all of this, like fish kept in a tank at seafood restaurant, you all seemed to serve a single purpose, to be raised up to be sold off like any other fish, whether to go onto a plate or into another tank- the feeling was the same.

All your dreams of going back home and ever seeing your family again were dashed to pieces in only a few minutes. With one bang of the gavel, you were sold off, as were most of the others before Mrs. Dalma got the “news”.

“Ok, girls, go back to class, get your things, go back to your bunks, pack up, you’ll get a chance to say goodbye to your families, but you’ll be leaving right after.” She informed you as the door was opened and suddenly huge guards were put into the tank to personally escort you and the others after they put special vests over your chests. All while the other kinds of girls were given the exact same treatment. And now all of you were crying as you picked up your books and only got to tell the others that you were sold off and leaving the tank and at least got to say goodbye to the others in the class before you went to your bunks with your guards while the guards themselves seemed to have bags of their own to put all of your stuff into for you.

But just as you and the others who were about to leave, you were nearly attacked by the “special” girls who were suddenly so angry and rageful at you for “stealing” this from them. How they had spent their entire lives preparing themselves for this. But all because- the lighting was bad or some other reason that was not their fault, they weren’t chosen. And the guards were there to keep them from actually touching you. And to keep you from actually trying to trade places with them. But they were quickly put into nets of their own and separated from the others to “cool down” before others came over to give them a second look. And with a single nod- suddenly they were chosen again, granted not by who they originally thought they would be, but with being chosen, suddenly they were as sweet as sweet weed again and happy to get into the nets with their things and get out of the tank.

You were put into a net and then all at once, without any warning, your blood was taken, then you were given injections all over your body. And a huge one right at the end of your tail before your tail fin. You could remember the “special” girls would routinely get out of class and come back sore and bandaged up. And had been on a special regimen of shots and medicine over the course of the last two weeks, now you were getting it all done in all one go. And your whole body hurt even when the others assured you they had given you something for the pain of the injections. If anything it took the initial sting out of them but you felt the ache of them in your whole body and you felt sick and ended up throwing up before you were cleaned and then put in fresh water that didn’t smell anything like your old tank.

After that ordeal, you were put in a plastic tub on the outside of your home tank while the guards continued to collect all that the buyer chose. Your parents and other siblings though, soon got to come and say goodbye, but from inside the tank itself. But because of the distance, neither of you could hear or touch the other.

‘What is happening?’ You signed to your parents.

‘You are a very special girl. You were bought by another owner of another tank. You will get to choose a mate in life and have a home of your own now.’ Your father signed back with a brave smile while your mother was trying to smile through her tears as she held onto your little siblings in her arms while her pregnant belly was still full of future siblings.

Your brothers from the boy’s side of the tank were even escorted over to you to say their goodbyes and while you went to the same school, you could barely recognize them as being your brothers for as little as you saw or even got the chance to socialize with them.

All of them were saying that this was ‘a good thing’, that you were ‘lucky’. That you were ‘going onto a better life’.

But you couldn’t feel that way. You didn’t feel lucky, you felt cursed.

You just sat at the bottom of the container, wrapped in your blanket because the water that had been put in here was cold and your body hurt and the blanket was the closest thing to comfort you had while you glared at the bits of your tail and fins that stuck out beyond the blanket and resented them because you still didn’t know what it was about them made you so “special” in the first place.

Three dots in a splotch and a pattern that showed up under a special purplish-blue light. Three dots that touched each other, somehow made you “so special” that you had armed guards to escort you and suddenly get the “special attention” that all the other “special” girls got earlier in their lives. And you were given a stack of books to “help you catch up” on the “special lessons” that you apparently hadn’t gotten in school that the special girls had already gotten and knew. But you ignored the stack of books and simply tried to commit to memory every face of each family member you had because you knew you would never get to see them again.

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March 2023 Day 19- Mermaid #Monster March 2023 Day 19 Part 1 #tw suicide #tw depression #tw mental illness #tw mental breakdown #tw nervous breakdown #tw self harm #tw special kid #tw narcissistic parent #tw masking

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