Mermaid's Cave

 Give it to me

No

No?

Yes, no.

Wait, yes or no?

No

So, it’s a no

Yes

So yes

No

You’re so annoying

I’m not speaking in riddles

That’s more like it, so yes, I can take it, or no I can’t

You can’t

Margret, I had asked you last week and you said yes

I’ve changed my mind.

If I don’t have the drugs to daze myself, what am I supposed to do?

Jackie, there’s plenty of time for that later. Today, we’re going to find that cave.

A Cave?

Yes, that haunted “mermaid cave” I had heard the sailor talk about.

Sounds like a sailor’s Pleasure Cave, if you ask me.

They don’t go near it Jackie, they’re afraid of it!

Sounds like a waste of time, Margret. It’s probably just an empty cave.

Probably, but we won’t know until we find out. Trust me, Jackie, this one will get your blood flowing for life again.

I highly doubt it, but if I can’t shoot-up myself then I have nothing better to do. 

That’s the spirit Margret!

Ah, so you’ve picked up my story…. Uh, great. I really don’t like writing about myself, but It’s kind of an important story for you to know. Who am I? Well, I’m a nobody, but for the sake of this book I’ll tell you a little about myself. My name is Jackie Menthol, yes menthol like the cigarettes…and yes, I do smoke them. When this story began, I was 21 years old. I don’t weigh too much, about 125lbs (still fat if you ask me).  I’ve got black hair and clammy white skin mostly because I don’t like going outside a lot.  I don’t like the way my face looks so I won’t describe it; The last thing I want is for one of you perverts to fantasize about me. My best friend is Margret Books. You met her already. Margret has been the reason I have not met my goal in the last few years. I hate her for it, but I can’t help but love her at the same time. What is my goal? Well, haven’t you read the opening passage- to do enough drugs to . . sleep.  You may ask me why? Or maybe you’re like me and you don’t care. Either way, don’t worry- this isn’t about that… Well, not entirely. We didn’t realize what we were getting into when we went in that Cave. Hell, no one would believe us. Fricken Hell, they still don’t!

I ask my editor if I can be finished with this opening, he nods annoyingly.

 Ok, let’s move on.

The folktale of Mermaids cave began with a girl named Julian Thatcher, or rather by her Uncle Timothy Pew, better known around town as Whiskey Tim. Uncle Tim had the idea of shooting sharks with a bazooka, but ended up shooting his own boat, no doubt under the influence of his favored whiskey. The story goes on telling that Mermaids rescued him, leading Uncle Tim to a cave where supposedly these mermaids worshiped a supreme being. The story kind of falls of the rails here. I’ve heard some sailors say that the mermaids began eating him, or the “supreme being” was a cannibalistic cave hermit. Somehow, he was missing a chunk of his leg, and for some reason no one would guess “shark”. How Whiskey Tim got to town is beyond me, but his mind was too far gone- too far twisted. In a week he ended up two young boys. Craziness final oozed out of him. But before Tim was put to death, some people say he told his niece, Julian Thatcher, where the cave was and what was hidden inside – the supposed source of his madness. No one dared to look for it, and if anyone did.. no one knows about who they were.

After this event, Julian became delusional and a recluse. The town’s men mocked her about Mermaids Cave being a Pleasure Cave her uncle took the young boys to. No one in town liked her. The world soon forgot about Julian Thatcher being an actual person. They thought about her as only a story. They made a ghost out of her.

To my surprise I had remembered the house where Julian had lived. I told Margret that I had visited her family with my parents a long time ago. It took a while to talk to her, she was clearly delusional, but it was then decided that we would all look for the cave together. Margret and I on our adventure, and Julian for some sort of personal closure. We took a boat that belonged to Margret and we paddled around the rocks, into the ocean. Once we were satisfied no one would see us, Julian pulled out her map.

It was then the whole world seemed to tilt. Within a blink I opened my eyes to find myself alone in the boat. I recognize the clothes because they were the same ones Julian was wearing. I realize what I have in my hands- not a map, but a gun. It all comes back to me. I was never Jackie. Margret was never there, she was an imaginary friend. I am Julian Thatcher. I am a delusional maniac. I have my gun. I now remember what my Uncle had told me about Mermaids Cave- a sailor’s suicide. Down to the depths they go. I smile for the first time in a long while. Time for my final adventure. I hold the gun to my head. A small tear of happiness rolls down my cheek. Mermaids cave…Here I come.          BAM!                                Wait, so who’s writing the book?