The morning does not rise her due to bright light, or loud sounds. No alarm echoes through the saturated veils of the silted sea floor, no urgent mother to flit her out of the house. She simply rises, ethereal in the sway of her glistening tail. She does not feel the lingering regret of ascending from warm blankets, or eyes which attempt to remain closed, she simply rises, awake and ready.
Her day starts with soft fingers tangling through the enduring length of her flowing hair. Her eyes do not register red hues or light browns in hair color, for if they did, she might notice the perfect gold of her strawberry locks, unharmed by the briny sea. Her own hands massage one of her sisters' mane, teasing out the tangles until her fingers flow through discreetly.
They speak to each other, she has no idea just how they do it, but when her mouth opens, she hears herself sing to her sisters. One calls to her;
"Adriannea," the voice of a maiden borne of the sea is a sound which cannot escape ones' ears... For its beauty will echo until one forgets how it sounds. Harps and cellos have no comparison, but imagine sound that makes your epidermis tingle. Their voice is rain on a metal rooftop, an opera singer proclaiming her love in Italian. Their voice is the ancient dialect of the Egyptian empire, how bass feels in the back of your head, the taste of syrup on your tongue. It will take your breath away, and make you feel ashamed of your exigent desire.
She turns her attention to her sister, and sees the murky smile through the water. "They are to have a party tonight" her sister proclaims, and then turns to another sister, and weaves her hands around her luminous hair, making a soft braid. She speaks of the castle situated on the oceans' edge not more than a few miles from their domain. At certain times of the year, without fail, the humans gather in celebration. Another speaks; "May we watch?" The sister languidly chatter among themselves, but they know the decision lies with the youngest,
"Adriannea," they all chant. She smiles to them, flashing teeth unnaturally white through the murky green. "We mustn't tell father," she muses. The other girls sigh in content, and return to readying each other. Adriannea tries to hide her pleasure. An adventure so close to the surface... It's her dream come true...