Echo

         I like to sing. My voice carries flawlessly through the woods surrounding my home, riding the wind and twirling around each leaf on each branch on each and every tree. I lay on the rock that rests heavily from the water so clear you can see the bottom until you reach the deep ends, where my sisters and I live. The moss-infested rock is so perfect, standing by its lonesome in the shallow waters, but close enough to my home that I can run and dive into the deep waters, from intruders or any threats. I lay there and sing a song I have never heard before, a talent some sisters don’t posses. It comes to my mind as I sing, the lyrics compose themselves in the air in front of me, and I just carry the command. I often sing of the water, the trees, my sisters, the sun, or even men.

         Men come to the sound of our singing, normally hypnotized by our sounds and brainwashed by our appearance. My sisters all sing differently, some sing their same song, others like me sing a new song each day, each mood, or even each hour. Singing is like fishing, we all like our own spots of the shallow water where we sing, some farther into the shallow waters than others. Singing far away from the deep waters is dangerous, because you are farther away from your sisters, and men can kidnap you if they don’t hear our song. I’ve lost many sisters to passing boys, pirates, and all sorts of men that never quite heard us in time. The deep waters is our protection, our home.

         You need to be in the shallow waters for anyone to hear you, and to be able to grab your catch if he is foolish enough to be caught up in your song and follow your voice. By the way a man moves through the woods is how we tell if he is captured by our song or not. If he is slow, and barely moves the branches out of the way, he is hypnotized by one of our voices, and we’ll know who when he sees the nymph whose song he’s fallen in love with, the man falls to his knees. We never feed unless invited to, and our invitations are a simple meet of our lips to theirs. The fallen men sometimes beg for his captor to kiss him, to take his life from him. Why? The agony. The agony of being so helplessly in love with something. The agony of knowing the only way to please the one you love is to give your life to her. The agony of being in the presence of someone so magnificent, so flawless, so beautiful, and yet so cruel.

         Then there are men who do not hear our songs, or listen to the words, who tromp through the forest as if they own it, who drink from our water tainted only by the blood of their brothers, who we fear and hide from. When these men appear, we dive for the deep waters, hidden by the dark shadows, waiting for the men to leave our waters.

         I sit on the rock, Apollo trying desperately to provide light, but the sun chariot has set, and the dim light of the moon has casted his spell over the forest, setting all animals to a silent slumber, including my sisters.

         A male is coming, I can tell by his footsteps he was confident and sure of himself, so I lay low and watch.

         I can’t help but gasp as he enters my view. He is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, and instantly I love him. I’ve never in my life felt so drawn to anything before, I feel as if I will just die without him.

         He senses me, “Who’s there?”

Oh, his voice is even more beautiful than my sisters and I could ever dream. “Hello,” I call shyly from my hiding.

“A woman,” he snarled, “just what I wanted when I took a walk to get away from them.” He turned to walk away.

No, stop him! “Wait!”

He stopped.

“What is your name?” I asked curiously.

“Narcissist,” he replied before disappearing in the woods.

Narcissist. The name rings in my head, the name of the man that holds my heart.

I am knocked back by a female shape in a blinding light, the shallow waters bending away from her tall body as if the light was protecting her. “Echo, you wretched nymph, I know of your relations with my husband.”

         I have never had relations before. “Who are you?” I ask, squinting my eyes to the blinding light.

         The light dims around a beautiful goddess, peacock feathers cover her pale skin around her waist and down her long legs. Blonde curls fall above her breasts, and she stares at me with hate-filled eyes, the color of deep-purple wine.

         “You shall be punished for your tresspasses,” she screams “Your voice is beautiful, yes, in fact more beautiful than your sisters,” I feel humbled by the Goddess’s compliment even with the cold terror freezing my body. “but now you shall only be able to repeat what is said to you! You’ll be as special as a mockingbird!”

         In my mind I pray to Zues. Help me from your misinformed wife, save me from a wrath I don’t deserve!

An unbearable heat raised from my chest, wrapping it’s fingers too tightly around my throat. I try to cry out but no noise is able to escape. I hear a cruel laugh, and all is gone. The goddess, the pain, it was as if she had never interrupted me from dreaming about my love.

I go to repeat his name.

I can’t.

Panic rises in my chest as I try to speak but my voice betrays me. I try to sing but the wind remained empty. I think about what the goddess said, and panic rushes through my body.

So, I swim. Then, I run.

My legs aren’t used to the ground, I stumble my first few steps but my legs quickly grow used to the surfaces beneath me as my skin grew thicker on the bottom of my feet. I try to scream as I run, or even make a noise, but the only all that is heard are my feet thumping and slapping hard on the solid ground.

I hear, “Why can’t I love another?”

I whisper, “Can’t I love another,”

My hand shoots to my mouth, the goddess compared me to a mockingbird...

“So many girls fall for me yet I don’t fall for any of them!” I recognize the voice. Narcissist!

“Don’t fall for any of them,” I repeat.

“Who’s there? Are you a friend?”

“Friend,” I agree, staying out of sight of the beautiful man.

“At last, I’ve long been waiting for an ear to listen,” my tired Narcissist calls to me.

“An ear to listen,” I repeat, and so I became. He talks to me about his life, not asking any questions, and I repeat his last words to show him I am listening. He paints pictures in my mind of how it was like growing up for him, and how he has never told anyone about his life before, but for some reason he says he trusts me.

“I find myself falling in love with your silence, maybe you’re the one to end my loneliness and free my soul!”

“Free my soul!” I cry, his words rushing through me.

“Come see me!”

And with my arms stretched out, I walk out and repeat, “See me!”

“A nymph?!” He says with a sharp pang of disgust. His mouth twists and he spits at me. “How dare you try to seduce me! You and all your kind are nothing but animals” his words stab me and my body is frozen except for my mouth.

“Nothing but animals...” defeated words flatten against my tongue and he throws them back at me.

He slaps me and I fall to the ground. I don’t look up, too ashamed. I feel him stare down at me for a long time, but he leaves eventually.

And I cry.

Oh, how I cry.

When I finally pull myself back up, I don’t want to be seen. I am a disgrace, and no one could love me. I run again, this time, I cover my face.

I don’t want to be seen ever again.

I run to a cave. It’s dark and cold in there, and it’s exactly what I want. I hide in the deepest corner, forever. My name is Echo the nymph, and even though if you call to me I must call back, please don’t look for me.