The Crashes of Waves

By Rebekah Nicole

Risen from the ashes, born of the waves.

The mermaid was different, and not just because of her mythical connections. Her opinions were strong, and she didnt seem to think in the same way the people around her did. Sometimes she felt as though she was just on a completely different wavelength to everyone else, living in some kind of parallel universe.

When Leila starts at her new school she falls madly and irrevocably in love with the charismatic and mysterious Vulcan Kevlar. However, Vulcan is keeping a huge secret from Leila, which he knows he has no choice but to let her in on when he realizes that her life is in serious jeopardy, along with the well being of the entire human race.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781475950366

Book preview

Chapter One

Kevlar

On a bright Sunday morning in Rockville, Florida, two brothers sat together quietly in a small bedroom. The interior of the room was bright and friendly, with sky blue paint and a variety of children’s artwork posted on the walls. The drawings were not the expected images of smiling children, standing in the sun with their parents. Instead the crayon pictures depicted only children, playing together or sitting alone. A large bay window filled the room with rays of warm, comfortable sunlight. They were in one of the ten bedrooms of a building that was many years ago the estate of a very prestigious family.

V looked compassionately into the round, chocolate brown eyes of his younger brother, and knew without a moment’s hesitation that something was bothering him. The edges of his usually grinning mouth were turned slightly downwards and his head was tilted towards the ground, as though he were trying to hide his emotions. The effort was pointless: V knew him far too well to fall for such a simple trick.

What’s the matter, mate? he asked, ruffling the boy’s dark and scruffy afro. His hair had many different shades of black and brown, and was now coming close to reaching his slight shoulders. Alec was wearing a basketball jersey that was about five sizes too big for him, causing him to appear even more scrawny than he actually was, which was an impressive feat, considering his tiny build. The shirt was close to reaching his knobby knees, one of which had a healthy-looking scrape from his adventures in the courtyard a few days before. Mollie always said that it was good for children to have scrapes on their knees—it meant that they had been having fun.

Nothing’s the matter, Alec answered fiercely, but V recognized the subtle tremble in his voice which allowed him to predict what would happen next as though it was written clearly across the boy’s face. Tears were on their way—hurtling closer—and almost definitely unpreventable.

Alec, V said, keeping his voice stern, but tender. What have I told you about this? We tell each other everything. No secrets, you hear me? He smiled, to let Alec know that he wasn’t actually angry. You’re all that I have, so it’s important that we trust each other.

Okay, Alec said, now beginning to pout, and looked up at V through his thick eyelashes. Fine . . . it’s about . . . , everything. This was it, V had unscrewed the lid, and now the contents would come pouring out instantaneously.

Everything. This, he said, gesturing around the room. "This isn’t a home. Homes have moms and dads. This . . . I don’t know. It’s just a place . . . a place we can live. And we can only live here ’cause people feel sorry for us. People feel better when they give their money to kids without parents. Orphans. He said the word with absolute disgust in his voice. It’s not fair. And the boys at the park, they’re so . . . mean! They’re selfish and they’re rude and they’re spoiled and they’re bratty and they’re greedy and they’re stupid and they’re bullies and, and, and, I—I hate them, I hate them, I hate everything!" he screamed, and the promised tears came promptly.

Alec, please don’t say that, said V, trying to calm him with his soothing voice. You don’t hate them. Hate is a strong word, and I’m sure if you give them a chance, some of those boys could be very nice.

I don’t care. It’s not fair. I hate them.

Alec Namura, you say that one more time and I’m leaving; you’ll have to fall asleep in the dark all by yourself.

No! the boy screamed again, clutching V’s crimson button-down shirt desperately. Fine, I don’t hate them, if you say so. The sarcasm in his voice was clear, but V decided to overlook it. But it’s still not fair. He took a deep breath and his chin trembled slightly. Everything, just everything. He nuzzled into V’s chest, and V wrapped a muscular arm around him protectively, hating how vulnerable and afraid the boy was, sitting cross legged on his tattered bed.

What did we do wrong, V?

What do you mean? We have done nothing wrong at all.

"Then why us? They go home to their moms and dads and they go play football and they go on vacations and they have pet dogs. People love them. Aren’t we good enough? Don’t people love us? What did I do wrong?"

The boy had experienced more acute suffering than most have by seventy, at barely seven years old. Life wasn’t fair, but V couldn’t just say this to him, not yet. Alec, Alec, Alec. You have the best big brother in the whole world, don’t you? You better not say no, you cheeky little monkey, or you’ll hurt my feelings. I know for certain that I care about you more than any of their parents do. You mean the entire world to me.

I love you so much V, Alec said, and curled under the covers of his small bed. He patted the space beside him, and V laid his own head next to Alec’s on the faded pillow.

Do you know how much I love you? V asked, causing a grin to spread across Alec’s angelic face.

The boy spread his arms as wide as he could and said: This much?

Too much, V whispered in agreement, and kissed Alec’s forehead gently. Sweet dreams, he said, don’t let the bed bugs bite. He tilted his head to one side and winked at his brother.

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Chapter Two

Black

School? High school? She had to be dreaming. What were they trying to do to her? This was so unfair! She slammed the door and angrily whipped a rock at the porch light, smashing it into hundreds of shining splinters of glass. I hate you! she hollered back towards the cottage. It was a large wooden cabin situated comfortably in a clearing within a collection of large, majestic willow trees. Her parents had lived there since before she was born.

Blinking away the warm tears that were now streaming down her face, Leila ran towards the crashing ocean waves; her true home. She felt the water splashing around her ankles, jumped a few feet forward, and dove. The familiar, mystical tingling sensation on her legs began. As she followed the rocky bottom, it gradually became easier and easier to swim.

She shot through the waves and a small amount of her anger was left behind. Leila hoped that if she swam fast enough her problems wouldn’t be able to keep up either. She wished life was like a fairy tale, that she could sing, like Ariel from The Little Mermaid, and that it would make everything okay.

Ha, ha.

Pondering over the movie, she wondered, if she could sing but not walk, would she trade her voice for a pair of legs? Not if it meant never getting her tail back—not a chance. But this was just fairytale garbage: damsel-in-distress-saved-by-strong-handsome-boy-they-fall-in-love-and-live-happily-ever-after. Real life answers were what she was looking for.

Leila supposed life wasn’t that bad: she appreciated her legs returning when she wanted them to, and she’d miss her parents and sisters without this luxury. On the other hand, if she didn’t have legs, her selfish, good for nothing parents couldn’t force her to go to school, and they really wouldn’t have much choice but to let her stay where she truly belonged; in O’Goncho Reef with the other mermaids. I’m not a child, she muttered angrily to herself.

Leila took a deep breath, gulping down as much oxygen as she could from the salty water. She attempted to calm herself by admiring the mystical, magical world into which she had escaped.

She lived for these moments, literally. Her tail gave a subtle twitch and she shot to the surface, flying into the air and sweeping downwards, one with the sea, and the air. She really did have the best of all three worlds. With her legs, she explored land: forests, sandy beaches, and busy cities. With her fins, she ventured into the sea: a dancer, graceful in every way she moved. Even in the air, Leila was superior to many, throwing herself meters above the surface and feeling the strong wind pulling back her long blond hair.

Leila was different, and not just because of her mythical connections. Her opinions were strong, and she didn’t seem to think in the same way as the people around her. Sometimes she felt as though she was just on a completely different wavelength to everyone else, living in some kind of parallel universe; alongside the people around her, but not really with them.

The mythical difference, though less believable, was a lot easier to understand. In Leila’s opinion, this difference was a gift, but her parents did not see it that way. There were other girls like her, and Leila knew it. She craved to meet another, to feel as though she truly belonged for the first time in her life. Mermaids are supposed to stick together—they just don’t fit in with other people. Leila’s parents, however, did not believe in this simple way of life that their daughter so craved.

Leila’s difference was not planned. Mermaids are conceived under a stormy sky, within meters of a beach. Her parents were not aware of this, until almost nine months later, when they were visited by a stunning young woman by the name of Celine, who informed them of their daughter’s gift. The couple was horrified; they hated the idea of having a mutant as a child. Deeply offended, Celine left, never to return.

Mermaids don’t have a permanent tail; it only forms when their legs are submerged in salt water. A mermaid’s body relies on this transformation; their skin depends on nutrients from the sea, their gills need to be exercised regularly, and it is very difficult for a mermaid to sleep above water. Leila loved the ocean, and was happiest and most comfortable when swimming. The closest things that she had ever had to friends were dolphins, manatees, turtles, otters, and other species of the sea.

Leila attempted to hold in the tears which seemed like they’d just keep coming forever. She settled down in her favourite place, a small cave in the cliff’s edge, about 30 feet below the surface.

She was sixteen, but looked much older. Her hair was naturally silky, soft, and radiant, her face was blemish free, and she already had the perfect figure, so she naturally attracted attention wherever she went. However, it wasn’t only her stunning good looks which made people feel so compelled to be as close to her as possible.

Mermaids are said to have a magical power, making them completely irresistible to those around them, especially men. Legend has it that they lure men into the ocean with their beauty, then either holding them hostage for their own entertainment, or devouring them at the bottom of the sea.

Leila, being unusual in mind as well as in body, hated this aspect of her gift. She wanted others to like her for who she was, and hated that so many girls seemed to think that their pretty face and attractive body were all they were good for.

Leila felt as though other kids her age were completely out of her league, she idolized them, but also felt sympathy. She loved her gift, and wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. She loved her life. Leila was the oldest of four girls, but the only mermaid. Her parents weren’t likely to make that mistake twice. She did love her parents, and they loved her too, even if they liked to pretend she wasn’t different. Being home schooled was great, she definitely didn’t have a problem with her parents keeping her away from those other rowdy kids.

She sighed, trying to digest the fact that life as she knew it was now over. High school! In less than a month!