Moonlit Waters

It has gone dark by the time I arrive at my secret little beach. With a vague sense of excitement, I strip and change into the usual outfit. It feels weird to pull the bottoms up, to have something fill them. But that won’t be the case for long.

Swiftly, I walk into the water, let myself sink, do the first stroke. Soon, the light pressure in my crotch lifts away and the fabric eases snugly against my skin. In its stead, the already somewhat familiar pressure of the bra top against my chest sets in.

I see Alex swimming towards the rock when I’m still only half of the way there. Other than all the times before, he’ll be there before me. But I don’t mind. It’s not like he thinks I live on there anyway. He just doesn’t know where I actually live.

I like the idea of being the mysterious girl of the lake. A friend only he knows, that he can come and talk to about all his troubles. I’m a good listener, at night. Well, I suppose at day too, but Alex doesn’t know that. In his mind, I must have too many problems already, so he doesn’t even try bothering me with his.

I should work on changing that, I tell myself as I close in on the rock. Friendship goes both ways and I know he only means well by sparing me, but at the moment I’m sure I can take it. I’m doing great, aren’t I?

“Bonsoir,” Alex greets me as I pull myself up onto the rock. It doesn’t look as disgraceful as it probably did on the first night I came here as Selena. Since I’m aware that my arms aren’t as strong as Timothy’s, I simply use my feet a little more. There are a few great stepstones I can use to get up smoothly.

“A good evening to you too, mister,” I reply with a grin. His French accent is absolutely terrible and his grin makes clear that he’s well aware of that. “What grade did they give you for that? Was it enough to pass?”

He acts offended. “Je ne sais pas de quoi tu parles. Mon francais est magnifique.” As if trying to make those grammatically correct sentences shine in the special light of his linguistic skills, he adds, “Croissant!” - butchering the word worse than Rambo with a double-bladed chainsaw ever could.

“This is awful,” I laugh. “Please, stop! My heart!”

“Actually,” he says, “I had two of those for breakfast.”

And I had one as well. But I won’t tell him that. “And that makes you real French, huh?” I raise my hand to interrupt him. “Please don’t.”

I think he’s really trying to look serious at that moment? But the light twitching in the corners of his mouth and the sparkling of moonlight in his eyes betray him.

“Anyway… How was your day?” I ask after he doesn’t say anything for a moment.

His face relaxes and he leans back against the rock.

“Good. My friend and I spent the entire day in the youth hostel’s kitchen, chopping veggies.”

“And that’s your idea of a good day?” I raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs in reaction. “Well, it was nice enough? I proposed it and he came along. That means that he’s able to trust me again, right? And also, we ate at the banquet afterward. So yeah, I do think that it was a good-” He pauses and eyes me suspiciously. “You know what’s strange, though?”

I look up a little startled. “What?”

“You weren’t there.”

“Huh?”

“You weren’t at the banquet. Just about everybody that’s staying at the hostel was there. But if you’re not staying there, then-”

“Maybe I just hid well,” I interrupt him with a vague smile. ‘Not getting me’ the smile says. Or, well, I hope it does.

He shakes his head firmly. “I didn’t just look once. If you’d been there, I would’ve seen you.”

“Well, that might’ve been because I’m not staying there.”

“But where then? The hostel is the only place in town.”

I raise both hands in an oversized shrug.

“It’s almost like you don’t even exist at day,” he goes on. Then suddenly, a telltale smile lights up his face. “You know, for all I know you could be running away from some secret research facility every night, returning in the morning so your guards won’t find out.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s a little far-fetched?” But then again… is it? More far-fetched than reality, anyway? Nah, I don’t think so.

“Or I’m some faery who can only visit this world through the magic of the moonlight.”

“A siren if anything. Though to be fair, I always thought Sirens were pretty vile things and I don’t even have a ship I could run onto these rocks. So I suppose you can’t be.”

“Damn right. If I wanted to take a bite, I would’ve done so a long time ago.” I grin and bare my teeth.

“So what are you then? Any clues?”

“Huh?”

“For example, what does a mystical creature like yourself do if she gets bored?”

I almost frown. Almost. “Does ‘meeting strangers on a rock in the middle of a lake’ count?”

He nods. “But what a strange thing to do.”

“Yeah right?” I act all confused. “Even worse: this particular mystical creature only does it at night.”

“But why would she do something like that?”

The cheeky bastard. He just won’t give up, huh?

“Because she doesn’t exist at day,” I say, grinning openly. “She just goes ‘poof’ and disappears for as long as the sun shines.” The words come with strange, unusual ease. “But that’s okay because she really likes to look at the stars and has nice company. So she doesn’t feel like she’s missing out on much.” Since when am I so good at lying? Is that a quality unique to me as Selena? No. Just yesterday, I certainly wasn’t. So something must have changed. Because clearly, I’m not saying the truth. I mean, I do enjoy his company and I also like stargazing, but I also very much do exist at day. Just not as Selena.

“Fair enough. I really am great company.”

“Shut up!”

His cheeky grin gives way to a simple, pleasant smile. “Jokes aside, though, I really enjoy… this. I like meeting you. You’re easy to talk to – sometimes it feels like I’ve known you for so much longer than just these past days. Which is funny, considering that I know next to nothing about you.”
This time, it isn’t actively prodding me to tell him something about myself.

“I just hope I’m not annoying you… You know, if I am, you can always just tell me, right? I know my humour can be a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“I just told you you’re good company. Where has your confidence disappeared to?”

He doesn’t catch onto the joke, just shrugs. “Dunno… You’re different, I guess.”

I open my mouth to tell him how little sense that makes to me, but he continues before I can bring out a word.

“You’ll tell me when you’re leaving, right? I mean, I know you won’t be coming here every night for the rest of the year, not even for the rest of the summer. So you’ll tell me, right? You won’t just not show up one day?” There’s a silent plea in his eyes and I feel uncomfortable under his gaze. I don’t want to disappoint him.

“No, I won’t,” I reply firmly. “I promise.”

-

With a muffled ‘click’ I pull the door shut behind me. The house around me is dark and silent. Only barely I can make out the contours of the shoe rack before me.

After the extended walk with street lights lighting my way, my eyes have yet to get used to the dark again.

Carefully, I sit on the floor and begin untying my laces.

I’m still Selena. The clothes I’m wearing right now are ill-fitting. The shoes are too big, on the walk home I had to keep pulling my pants back up. If I keep going like this it won’t be long before I get blisters. I’m actually surprised I didn’t get any yet.

Long hair falls forward and into my face as I lean in to take off the first shoe. I pause and put the strands behind my ear.

As per usual, by the time I arrive home, my hair has dried now. The feel of it against my fingers is soft and silky. I really like it.

Finally out of my shoes, I lean over and carefully put them in their place on the rack. Then I get up.

On the balls of my feet, I pad over the floorboards towards the stairs. I walk on the edge of the steps, just far enough from the wall to be able to keep my balance. Every step is placed slowly, careful to avoid making any treacherous noises. My eyes flicker to the clock hanging in the hallway.

Two in the morning. Or is it four? No, the hand pointing at the two is the shorter one.

Creeaaaak.

Like a deer in the headlights, I freeze. I didn’t pay attention and now I’ve made a noise. I want to kick myself, but I stay perfectly still and listen.

There’s no sound. The house is eerily quiet, as if there was nothing but shadows inhabiting it.

How fitting. It is, after all, the world of shadows I exist in. I will never see the light of day.

No, that’s wrong. Selena will never see the light of day.

With a grimace, I continue my slow ascend.

It’s dark in the corridor ahead of me. Even more so than in the hallway downstairs. There are no windows here.

All the doors are closed, still no sound. There! That one’s mine. My hand is already on the handle when -

“Oh, it’s just you.”

The small voice comes from behind me. With a turn of my head, I can just barely make out the contours of her tiny form.

“Why are you up so late?” she mumbles, padding closer. I don’t move. I want to run, but I know that would only make it worse.

She sounds like she’s still half-asleep. There’s hope.

“You should go to bed,” she goes on, barely understandable. “Tomorrow will be a beautiful day.”

With the next step she’s right before me. Slowly, she puts her arms out and around my waist, nuzzling her cheek against my stomach. The top of her head just barely doesn’t come into contact with my breasts.

I stand stiffly, not even daring to breathe. My muscles are tense against her small body and I try to relax, to keep from shivering. But it doesn’t work.

With a tremendous effort, I manage to raise my hand and pat her hair. But I stay silent, praying for her to leave and go back to bed.

“I love you,” she whispers, then her arms let go and she pads back into her room.

It takes several seconds for me to awake from my stupor. As quickly and silently as I can, I open the door to my own room, step through and close it behind me. Only then do I dare breathe again.

What the fuck just happened there?

How did she not realise I’m not Timothy? Or did she see that Timothy and I… No, there’s no way. She’s eight years old for fuck’s sake. She must’ve been so sleepy she didn’t pay attention.

With a sigh, I go to my bed and strip off the clothes that will only fit me again in the morning. My pyjamas are in the washing right now, so instead, I put on an oversized shirt and shorts I usually wear for PE.

The encounter with my sister still swirling around my head, I brush my teeth and go to bed.

I’m tired. In spite of all the adrenaline only barely having left my bloodstream, I have no trouble falling asleep. It’s been a long day.

The last thought before I drift off, is that the smoothness of my legs against one another feels strangely comfortable.