Remain a Mermaid
Sophie D’Errico
In this photo a little girl perches on a large, flat rock in a shallow creek that leads to a swimming hole. She sits on her side with her two little feet hanging off the sun-warmed rock and imagines a mermaid’s tale in their place. It is an uncomfortable position, but a mermaid certainly could not sit in a restful criss-cross applesauce.
The nearby trees reflect on the water, creating hazy green reflections that cover the clear water in a sage blanket that protects the various rocks and pebbles resting at the bottom of the creek. The sun carves pathways through the tree leaves and lands its spotlight on the top of the girl’s dark brown head. Her perpetually frizzy hair is temporarily subjugated by the water’s wetness and her thick bangs are pushed out of her eyes and pasted to her forehead. This is before she becomes so desperate for her hair to always look as smooth as it does when wet.
The collar of her one-piece bathing suit has a frilly layer that she enjoys fiddling with and that had caught her eye at the Old Navy when her mother had taken her to pick one out. The pinks and purples in the floral pattern are representative of her strong attachment to both colors. This will eventually be followed by a sudden rejection of either color in favor of a mature blue.
To compliment her mermaid posture, her mouth is agape in a perfect “O” shape as she sings a melody from The Little Mermaid, the moment that Ariel gives up her voice. Eventually the girl will do the same as she hides in the back of her classes, too afraid to volunteer and risk her classmates turning their heads and viewing her the same way she viewed herself. Unlike Ariel, this girl will not see the very moment her voice leaves her body and fills the seashell necklace of her villain. It will happen slowly over time–but not yet.
In this photo her big, warm eyes are deeply and prominently brown. This is before they turn into a brown-green hazel, perhaps as a result of so much wishing that they were green and therefore unique and beautiful, that they felt they must relent for her a little bit.
If she could see this photo she would not remember it, for in her mind she was not in a creek but in an ocean. Her young brown eyes hold a look of transfixion as she focuses on creating a world around her. The rocks around her are coral, the emerald reflections of the tree leaves have shaped themselves into fish, the tree canopy is the surface of the ocean, and she has transported herself to Ariel’s grotto. Her legs are bound together in a green tail and her small feet have become two long, luxurious fins.
She stares ahead in concentration as she focuses on the melody of her mermaid song and performing it correctly. Not for her listening family who have disappeared from her mind, but for herself and her desire to become the little mermaid.
Along with the brown of her eyes, she will fade. Someday she will learn what it is like to feel unwanted, to feel inadequate, to feel untalented. The focus of her brown eyes will shift from mermaids to mirrors, her hazel eyes watering in her blurry reflection. She will brush her bangs out of her face in a defiant hatred for them before eventually cutting them back and growing them out as the trends and normalities demand. She will restore her former enthusiasm for the pink and purple colors until she decides to abandon them yet again. The ebb and flow of her likes and dislikes will form an uneven choppy tide. What will stay consistent, however, will be the hours spent trying to tame her frizzy mop, thinking it would be so much easier if she lived in the water–the one element on the planet that can subdue the enemy she has created for herself.
This girl does not have a sea witch to blame–only herself and a world trying its best to drown her. If only she knew that mermaids can not be drowned.
In a few years, she will join her school’s choir and sing the alto parts until she quits after seventh grade, because singing was never truly her thing.
But in this photo, the girl sings.
Sophie D’Errico is a SAS Honors Program student from Hampton, New Jersey. She is a Class of 2026 Journalism and Media Studies and Communication double major with a minor in History. In her free time she enjoys playing board games, exploring nature, painting, and watching movies.
Sophie wrote this piece in a course taught by Joanna Fuhrman, who selected this piece for inclusion in WHR.