A Blue So Dark — Holly Schindler

All I see are murky depths that could swallow me whole

Mom knew that the mermaids -- hand-carved from driftwood by the owner of a souvenir shop -- were all I wanted to take home from Florida. As she bought them, she looked down at me, her eyes not just glittering but snapping with fire like two Fourth of July sparklers. She ran her finger down the length of my nose, almost like you'd stroke a favorite pet, and said to the salesman, "We're just alike, me and Aura."

And you know, back then, the idea of that didn't scare the absolute hell out of me.