The Water Horse: Prologue

The Water Horse
Prologue

December 18th, 1948, London, England

Dear Journal,

I promise you that I went mad last night. I suppose I could have been dreaming, but (once again, I might be mad) it seems highly unlikely in my opinion.
As you know, I am normally an extremely logical person. And this goes against everything that makes sense to me in this world, but I can (almost) promise you that this is true. Here is what happened:
I heard something in the middle of the night. The sound was very strange. It wasn’t quite chanting, but it drew me closer and closer to my bedroom window. Since we live right by the dock that leads to the bay, I was able to see everything.
I slipped a coat on mindlessly and opened the window. December breezes rushed at my face. When I looked at the clock of Roman Numerals I saw that it was five minutes past midnight. I started chewing on my hair, trying to decide whether to go or not. Then I heard the sound again. As if taken into a trance, I slipped through my open bedroom window! What kind of idiot does that?!
Luckily, my room is on the first floor and I didn’t have to be concerned with falling to my doom within the rosebushes. I carefully stepped to the side of the rosebushes, trying not to stab my bare feet.
After that ordeal was over, I was able to walk over dewy (and not to mention slippery!) grass to the dock.
No one was outside. Not even the ducks that I see every day were up. Just as I began to think about turning back, the noise started again. Once again I was entranced.
My feet thumped gently on the wet wood being splashed by ice cold water. I thoughtlessly took my thick jacket off. A gust of cool wind hit me as soon as I dropped it, but I didn’t care. The sound was getting louder and louder. I got closer and closer to the edge.
My toes were over the edge. I was about to jump in when I thought, “What are you doing?!” but before I could turn back, I was in.
I felt like I was in a bucket of ice water. I had to go up for air. I swam up as fast as I could and took gasping breaths. The sound. Oh that accursed sound! I wanted so terribly to go back home to my nice warm bed, but the sound was taunting me. I had to go. I tried to swim to the dock, but my muscles locked up. I discovered the sound wasn’t going to let me. I regretfully went in the direction the sound wanted me to go, wondering if I would ever see my family again.
I swam deep underwater, needing to go up for air quite often when a bubble surrounded me. Yes, an air bubble. I told you I would sound mad! I stopped and cautiously sucked in a breath, hoping I wouldn’t just fill my airways with bay water, but no. It was pure air. I started swimming again, wondering if this was an insane dream instead of reality. I wasn’t sure at the time.
After what seemed like hours I finally reached my destination. The sound was ringing in my ears but was not directing me anywhere. I looked around and saw nothing but coral and some other water plants I am not familiar with. But then they came out.
They were large, around the size of my cousin Marie’s Welsh Pony, but with the fins of mermaids and the scales of sea horses. Their heads were like any normal horse head only with fins in place of manes.
They came peeking out from the sides of large tangly sea plants, staring at me with interest. I saw they meant no harm. The seahorse who must be the lead stallion looked at me with caution. I could tell he was unsure of me, the scrawny, two legged girl in a bubble. But after several minutes of investigation, he decided I meant his herd no harm. I couldn’t do anything but stare. I saw sunlight beginning to glare from above the water. The seahorses swam off and were gone in a flash.
I gasped and swam the other direction, not exactly sure of where I was going. But I did achieve getting back in my room before mother and father noticed.
Well, it was unusual. I am not going to tell anyone. It’s frightening to think of what could happen. I’m imagining mental institutions!

-Rice Ramona Herman, age 10 as of November 29th, 1948.

To be continued in the next edition of The Waterhorse Chronicles