Message in a BottleA Story by Eris Marriott Renee is saying a final goodbye to the ocean she loves. A bottle fixed between greedy fingers tipped, a carbonated fluid slicking down the neck of it. Renee finished the whole thing in a few gulps. Any day was a good day to have a lukewarm root beer. The sand clung to her legs and held her fast, the tide rolling in to swallow her whole while she was trapped. A few days remained before she would depart from her coastal oasis. A new job awaited her a few states over. She’d finished college and now she had to face the demons of adulthood. Alone. Her ocean was her comfort zone; she’d traded it all for a desk job. A sacred relationship had been shattered on the rocks of responsibility. The hush of the seafoam seemed to whisper to her. “Betrayal.”
She sighed, affirming to the glassy waters that she knew--she knew that she’d given up. She’d sold out. In its stead would be some forgettable desk with photos of mediocre life framed all around--reminders of what she’d given up. The dark, amber bottle in her hand was sticky with syrup and sweat. She’d been holding it as long as she’d been sitting on the beach; that was at least a few hours. Regret wallowed up in her chest as she imagined what life would be away from the sea that she’d confessed all of her secrets to. Who would she share her worries with once she departed? Would she ever return? Would she find peace where she would soon settle? She had no choice; she had to take the job. She couldn’t escape adulthood and responsibility forever. But losing a part of her soul along the way hadn’t been her plan. For a moment, she allowed herself the childish thoughts she’d shoved away for so many years. How I long to be a mermaid.
To trade her legs for a tail seemed merciful. To slip beneath the surface of the water and be washed away by the depths of a world far beneath her… It would be a miraculous gift. A thought struck her; she began the task of peeling the wrapper from the base of the bottle. Careful not to let it tear, she successfully pulled the wrapper off in a piece large enough for her to pen her thoughts. A sharpie marker stuck out of her pocket, begging her to write the truth. Dear Ocean,
Take me home. I wish to be a part of you As you have been a part of me. Don’t let this cruel world take Of me the soul that I have left.
-R
The space on the back of the wrapper ran out faster than she’d expected. She had nothing to cork the bottle with--she would have to trust the ocean to carry her message and take it. Or leave it. Flashing terrors of a simple life sent her heart racing. A scream suffered at the edge of her lips--a plea ready to let loose to the very beast she had betrayed by signing her contract that day. It was her only hope; she hadn’t trusted it as she should. Her soul was long gone now. If only she’d thought to stop herself from signing her life away to a place where the sea could never be. She curled the paper up and stuffed it inside. She wished her bottle a bon voyage of tears and sorrow greater than any she’d felt. Satisfied that she’d done her best to send it far, she turned her back to the sea. Whether or not the ocean heard her call, it would be the last time she felt its salty spray or heard its soft voice. Indeed, the life behind a desk would gobble her up and never spit her out again. All the way home, she dreamed of fins she could never have and a world beneath the Earth that she would never see.
© 2018 Eris MarriottAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews  Last Updated on August 5, 2018 Author
Eris MarriottAboutI'm a fantasy author in the process of reworking a fifth, sixth, or something-else draft of a project I've been working on for about four years. I'm looking to build my author network, practice my.. more..Writing
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