She feels so much at home in the sunlit dark green waters where the vibrant creatures swam, their fins soft as an embrace, their scales shining vividly like a dream in a hazy abyss. She wanted so much to just be in the flow of the water, to never to go back to that place that called her different or unnatural. Besides, she can always admire the warmth of the sun better when her skin is cool against the calming ripples, her hair fanned out amidst the dark water, shining gold like firelight. Just don't lean in too much against the water whenever you talk with her though -- she might pull you down so you can also admire the place she is so happy in. Not that she'd really pull you, you might just be entranced by the strength of her love for this little secluded world, you'd definitely jump right in without hesitation. "It's fine," the fish said as they swam about her, "but if you're not as willing to like her or this world as much as we do, then we're afraid you'll sink."
~

When I was younger, I found dark green waters frightening. No one really knows what lingers beneath the surface. I have always imagined the worst, that is to say, I've thought of gigantic carnivorous fish with bloody teeth and dark scales, of ghosts or lifeless beings lingering aimlessly. That was too horrid, really. Now though, the dark green waters looked mysterious. There's a strange good pull coming from the light that shimmers on the water. I could just imagine what the light makes of the dark things beneath, revealing something beautiful no one has ever imagined. I'll be honest, I still feel anxious of dark waters. I think it's a safe reaction, don't you think? But I am not as scared of it though. The dark waters seem to have more beautiful things to show, if only I have the courage to try and explore it.