It is sometimes pathetic the ways human minds work

It is sometimes pathetic the ways human minds work. How if something is a myth or in any way related to one then there is no way it could possibly be real. Sure, they argued about it. Did Nessie truly exist in Loch Ness? Did dragons inhabit the northernmost reaches of the Himalayas? What about Pegasus and unicorns, were they there but just chose not to show themselves?

Ah, yes. Watching those humans agonize over those questions makes them quite pathetic in my eyes. Though the worst must be the question regarding: me. Well, not me specifically. More like my people, the Sea People. Personally, I thought we needed a better name for our race, but who am I to complain?

But despite how pathetic those humans were, nothing could compare to the strong feeling of lust whenever I breached the subject of humans. What was it like to walk? To run? What was it like to breathe into the air, to sit on the beach with someone you cared about? What was love?

As pathetic as they were, those humans were quite lucky. Although the feeling of the salt water on my skin, the gentle caressing of the sea against my tail, and the currents that constantly brought my silvery bangs in front of my face were pleasurable, sometimes I couldn't help but feel like I wanted more.

Call me selfish, if you will, but it is simply my nature to wonder about this. Although I shall admit that that wonderment has gotten me into quite some trouble. My people… they don't believe in mingling with the humans. To them, they were inferior beings. Funny, isn't it, that the ones who cruise though the skies and have figured out how to cross the seas should be considered to be inferior to those who spent generation after generation under the waves.

Those big cities that the humans made; sometimes I wonder if we could build something like that underwater. Perhaps it would be surrounded by a dome to protect the buildings on the inside and the living world outside. A small smile graces over my lips as I hold out my hand in the water, allowing a particularly bold little clownfish play as it weaved its way between my widespread fingers. Life here was good, but I couldn't help but get the impression that life up there was even better.

"Amaya-san, you better not be thinking about the surface! Or worse yet, about gong up to the surface!"

I turn innocently to face the other mermaid who drifted before me, hands on her hips. "Of course not," I say, eyes wide. "What on earth would give you the impression, Nakia-san?" Nakia purses her lips but doesn't answer.

Either way, every single day at nightfall I found myself sitting on a smooth rock in the sea a bit off from the beach, doing nothing but sitting there and staring at a world that was so close but so painfully far away. Always it felt as if I was reaching forward, but no matter how far I reached, I was always an inch or two away. So close, yet so far away…

Despite Nakia's warning and possibly my own better judgment, I found myself on that same rock that night, staring as I always did at the bustling human city. Yearning, but never getting what I desired. I would never get the answers to all my questions.

As pathetic as humans are, sometimes I think I'm just as pathetic.