By Lila Hanifin, TIWP Student
They said the thing comes from the sea. I say that can’t possibly be.
They say the thing comes from the sea. I say why don’t I inquiry?
They say the thing comes from the sea. I say it couldn’t possibly eat me.
They say the thing comes from the sea. I say it couldn’t possibly ea-AHHHH…
They say the Carcharin comes from the sea. I don’t believe that. I hate how they tell that story to younger children every year. You may call me unimaginative but would you like your kid to wake up at early light, crying for their parents because they think a fictional sea monster is going to come out of the water, hungry for a child’s flesh. But to go against years of our stupid tradition to ward it off be such a crime. Would stealing the special stage that the Headman burns every fortnight be an unheard of act. I just want to show the village that we can fish by the waters again, sail without fear. That’s why I did it. That’s why I took that herb and I tossed it into the bay. That’s why I’m fishing before the banishing ceremony starts. The ceremony that won’t be needed any longer. I just wait and fish. Waiting for the ceremony and fishing for dinner. After some time passes, I pack my supplies, satisfied with my catch and plan to cook before the bell rings, calling us to gather. My feet have just touched the sand when I see something crawling out of the water and heading for me.