A lost Selkie at the sea, watched by Leucothea

[Asztal]

✶ JOURNAL ENTRY #01 — I DON'T EVEN LIKE WATER ✶

New boots. 
New rank. 
New place. 
No home.

Dear whoever finds this (if you're snooping — stop it): 
It's me. Still me. 
Maren Callow, Marine now, apparently. 
(Weird)

Nilhirra’s gone. Still not over it. 
The Homeless Circle thinks they can just 
wipe away everything and rename it victory. 
But it’s not. It’s theft. 
And I hope the sea swallows them sideways.

Anyway.

The base smells like algae and boy deodorant. 
The sirens sing sometimes at night — real ones, not the metaphor kind. 
Maybe both. 
My bunk creaks like it’s judging me. I don’t care. 
I miss my pillow more than I miss some people.

Also: I learned what “secure the perimeter” means. 
(It means go walk in a boring circle with a flashlight. 
It does not mean tie things down. I was wrong)

I’ve got my uniform. I’ve got my orders. 
And I’ve got a chip on my shoulder 
shaped exactly like Nilhirra’s skyline. 
They’ll never smooth that out.

I’m not writing this to be poetic. I just… 
don’t want to forget how I felt the first time 
the sea didn’t feel like home.

Let the record show: 

• The food sucks.
  
• The stars out here are smug.
  
• The Homeless Circle still sucks more.
  
• I don’t like water. Still joined the Navy. Logic? None.
  

— Maren Callow, 
First Entry. 
Still a little angry. Still a lot me.