Part I: The Little Mermaid Fanfic
âMargarete!â yelled the prince as he entered the room. Thatâs not her name, and he knows that, but thatâs what he calls her since she canât tell him her real name. The princeâs coat and hair were wet from the drizzle pouring down outside. The hall was small but cozy and the walls were white. Against the left-hand wall, there was a small wooden sideboard, perfectly polished, with books and a single vase holding blue alliums. âMargarete!â he yelled again.
As he received no answer from his wife, he stumped into the dining room, where he found her very busy setting up the table.
âAre we expecting anyone?â he asked innocently.
The former mermaid turned quickly, scared by that unexpected noise. She realized her husband was standing in the middle of the room and rushed to take off his coat and pull up a chair for him. âYeah, I think... Your parents mentioned something about coming down here but forgot to specify what day exactly and maybe, I donât know, like they did a month ago. Was it a month ago? I canât recall.â Said she in sign language. She had to learn it after she couldnât communicate with her husband and he couldnât understand her facial expressions. He sat down at the table where napkins and silverware were scattered in a chaotic order.
âWhy donât you let the servants organize everything?â said the prince sounding bad-tempered. âShe always tries to do everything by herself instead of using the help, itâs so irritating,â he thought.
âI had a lot of energy this morning,â she smiled while using her hands, âyou know, as I do every once in a while.â She lowered her hands. 'Nothing to do... I can get slightly bored sometimes in this big castle,' she thought. She turned to him again, scared to look at his eyes directly. âAnyways, I thought about trying to clean everything myself while they prepare the food.â He nodded skeptically while his eyes followed her as she walked around the room, carefully and nervously.
The man got up from his chair and walked toward the woman, who was now folding the last napkin. He wrapped his arms around her waist, she gulped, and slowly pressed his lips against her bare neck, making the hairs on her arm bristle. She got away from him, saying that she forgot the cups as an excuse.
âCould you please go up to the attic and get those dishes your mother gave us? The wedding gift? Itâs in a wooden box, easily recognizable because of the carvings on the top, very pretty,â expressed with her nervous hands.
âOf course.â His voice sounded slightly annoyed and left the room without further comments.
The woman sat down at the table, hiding her face behind her hands. âI shouldnât have been so disrespectful.' She could almost feel the bruises on her arms and legs and stomach screaming for mercy. She could feel them burning. âHeâs what Iâve always wanted,â she reminded herself and stood up to continue setting up everything.
Suddenly, a glass shattered against the floor. It was her fault, her nervous hands canât hold anything anymore. The little mermaid knew he was going to scream at her, so she had to clean the mess before he would be back.
âWhat did you do? Look at this mess!â said the prince as he walked into the room screaming, âYou canât ever do anything right, you canât even talk, youâre completely useless, Margaret.â
She hated every time he would call her that, but she couldnât say anything. Tears were the only thing sliding down her cheeks. She looked at the glass she was holding in her right hand and thought about setting herself free and end all the suffering, mistreatment, pain, but she couldnât. He grabbed her arm with such strength that anyone who saw it could swear that he would tear her apart, and she dropped the piece of glass. He dragged her to their bedroom and tossed her to the dresser, where she hit and fell. He then slapped her in the face, leaving a giant, red mark. âWhy canât you do anything right?â Tears and sobs came from her while the repeated kicks, punches, and slaps hit her face, arms, legs, stomach, and back. When he finally stopped, the woman was an amalgam of blood and bruises.
âClean yourself and get dressed for my parents, Margaret,â he added. He then walked up to the door and closed it with conviction, leaving the world and the freedom away from her.
She couldnât sleep that night, she kept thinking about everything that happened that day. She put on her best smile to welcome her husbandâs parents and acted like her body wasnât under utter pain, but now she was alone with him, and she couldnât fake it anymore. She made the decision that has been following her for a long time. âTonight is the night,â she thought. She got up, changed her clothes, packed a couple more dresses and jewelry to sell and walked out of the room. She knew she couldnât go back to the sea with her sisters, she didnât have her fishtail anymore. But she canât stay with her prince anymore either. Sheâll walk to the town and find a job somewhere. Sheâll figure it out for herself.
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 I decided to do a fanfic about the original fairytale of The Little Mermaid because itâs a story that we didnât discuss in detail, so I thought it would be interesting to explore the story by myself. I got the inspiration from one of Saint Hoaxâs digital campaigns called âHappy Never After.â For this, he edited princessâ pictures to show them being abused in order to create awareness about domestic violence and encourage the victims to report their cases. One of his pieces had Ariel being abused by Eric.
My story occurs in an alternate universe where the prince does marry the little mermaid, and in consequence, she doesnât die. I did leave the fact that she is mute to be a symbol of the silence that abused victims have to maintain due to the fear they have in their own homes. Because of this, the prince never knew the mermaidâs true name and so he chose to call her "Margaret," removing her from her real identity. Hans Christian Andersen, the author of the tale, was Danish, same as the name âMargaretâ, which means âpearl,â therefore from the ocean, where the prince met the mermaid.
I wanted to leave as a moral that not everyone is what they seem, and so itâs better to meet that person before rushing into things. But I also wanted to maintain Hoaxâs campaign and give hope to abused victims by showing that they can escape their abusers and that thereâs also light where there only seems to be darkness.













