This one is going to be spread across 3 parts.
There's cove by the cliffs that all the sailors stay clear of. I say cove but I really mean the patch of sea surrounding it too. For whatever reason, boats would crash though the rocks only bring small and spread, and the fish would never swim near the cove, though the water round there being cleanest there is. "There's merpeople round there, in that cove." My grandfather once said to me during his evening tea? "Merpeople?" I asked him, looking up from the book I was reading. "You mean like mermaids?"
"That's right." He dragged his chair forward, closer to the small table. "Merpeople, but not the like the pretty princess you know."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean?" He scratched a bit of his stubbly white beard, then lowered his voice and leaned in closer as if sharing secret for only us. "They say it's a beautiful mermaid within that cave, one twilight a sailor struck her husband out of fear, so it sickened with grief, her beauty was no one and she turned to a terrifying monster." I gasped. "In order to protect herself and hide her hideous body she keeps away the sailors by shooing the fish away and crashing the boats."
"The poor thing." I said indulged in his stories. "Oh, stop filling her head with tales." Said my mother, picking up the plate of biscuits, my grandfather reaching out to grab another biscuit but was denied. "The waves are just harsh round there, that's all." She then picked up his tea cup and began to wash it in the sink. "It looks calm, luring in the sailors, but when you actually get there the waves are rapid and unforgiving."
"It's because of the mermaid!" My grandfather said.
"Oh nonsense. Mermaids are as real as the loch Ness monster."
"Nessie is real!" My grandfather protested.
"The girl is going to be eight in a months time, no need to be telling her children's stories."
"Don't mind your mum," My grandfather muttered to me. "She's just old and salty."
For whatever reason sailors would still go to the cove despite all the warnings and all the stories. "There's good fish round there." My uncle told me once. "But as soon as you get close they all run off and the wind picks up." He was busy cleaning the deck of my father's boat. Scrubbing out all the dirt that had gathered from the previous trip with a broom. "Grandad said the water the water there is calm and perfect for fish but they never go there." I said to him. "Yeah, you can see 'em on the little radar but as soon as you get there you're out of control." The boat was in the docks, with seagulls over head. I sat on the side of the boat. "And before you know it, you've crashed." He stopped sweeping and looked at me. "It's strange, that place. Don't ever go there, no matter how much it's luring you in... now take this and fill it with clear water, c'mon on." He handed me a bucket of dirty water he used for sweeping.
Even still, the cove interested me. I could never seem to shake it off my mind. The cove was only small and isolated, with no way to get to it from land. Around it were many rocks, though sharp there was only very little. The cove, from what it looked like, also led to a small cave that was partly underwater. It was off limits completely, for being unstable and really big safety risk. Even above, the cliff was advised to be stayed away from, fearing the cave underneath it would lead to it collapsing at some point when it gains just a little too much weight.
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