Work Text:
“Once, many generations ago when our ancestors first moved to this country, one of them made a discovery that would change the lives of those to come after him. Deep in the mountains, he felt like he heard voices, calling out for help.
Our ancestor followed the voices, inquiring who they were, and what they needed his help with, and so they told him that they were a group of water spirits, trapped until help arrived. They had strived to receive a power that wasn’t meant to be theirs, and as a punishment they had been banished to the mortal realm, sealed away to wait for a worthy mortal to come by. The mortal would have to prove they were not thirsting for power to set them free, and in turn they were to serve that mortal forever.
When our ancestor heard that they had been trapped for centuries already, he set out to attempt it himself, facing the hard and dolorous trials. He passed the trials and found a small pond surrounded by a seal, seven hopeful faces staring at him from below the water. The gods had not planned for a mortal to walk the world with the power of the spirits however, and so they put him in front of a decision. He was allowed to set them free, however he would have to cross into the spirit world, receiving a chance for a new life there at the cost of sacrificing everything he had in this world.”
“Oh no! Did he do it? Did he, grandma?”
“Yes he did. He decided to sacrifice himself, with only one request. Since he would not be able to watch over his little child, he asked the spirits to watch over it in his stead.”
“Woah! And they agreed?”
Grandma chuckled. “More than that. The spirits were so moved, and so relieved to be free that they agreed to keep his descendants safe from harm. And so, in every generation of our family there is a special person who is being watched over by these seven spirits. Who knows, they might come to protect you soon.”
My grandma told me that story many times when I was a young kid. I remember how excited I was at the idea of being protected by mysterious spirits. I even fought with my cousin when he tried to tell me that no such thing existed, I was so sure that one day they would show up to keep me safe.
They did keep me safe, but oh boy did I have different expectations of them.
My first encounter with them was not much later, while I was playing in the sandpit behind my grandparents’ house. I was building little sandcastles, putting all my efforts into getting them right, when out of nowhere these men came into the garden.
One could say they looked otherworldly, I guess. Tacky could be a fitting word too.
They had hair in all kinds of colours that I had never seen on any other human before, standing off in ways I had not seen before either. And their clothes weren’t very different either, from skirts – even though they did look like men – to cheetah print sweaters, they looked so alien I knew they just couldn’t be human.
And as I was sitting between these strange men, looking at them with wide eyes, they whipped out water guns and started spraying water on the sand.
I didn’t know what to do, how to talk to spirits – or how to tell them not to do something like that, and so all I did was sit and watch. Watch my sandcastles dissolving in front of me, leaving nothing but a wet puddle. I was so upset I almost missed the small spider being swept away in the water.
I cried to my grandma that day, and she held me with a knowing sigh. It was hard to take, she said, but that I could be sure nothing bad would happen to me from then on. At least, nothing worse than having those spirits around.
And it was bad enough to me. My stories about supernatural spirits didn’t exactly make me popular with any of the other children, and of course nobody believed my story either. So throughout my time in elementary school, I was avoided and ignored by my classmates. They ended up believing me one day, after they’d decided to tease me more than usual.
Something small hit me in my back in the classroom and when I turned around, I found a paper slip crumbled together. “Spirit freak”, it said when I unrolled it.
“Hey freak, where are your protectors now?”, one of the boys whispered to me and the others laughed.
Our teacher arrived, but they continued, throwing paper at me and laughing when she wasn’t looking. At one point she seemed to notice, but my relief quickly vanished as she snapped at me out of all people.
“Stop this right now! You keep trying to get attention, but if you don’t stop telling your stories around, you will never amount to anything in your life!”
And then, the door of the classroom opened. Everyone stared as one after the other, seven men walked in. They lined up at the front of the room, looking my class down.
The teacher was spluttering, demanding to know who they were. They all ignored her, spreading out through the class as they wished, not caring about anyone around. One of them even jumped on a classmate’s desk. Then they got ready.
This time, it wasn’t water guns. No, this time what they pulled out were water hoses that they shot at everyone present in class.
Nobody doubted my stories after that event, and nobody dared to make fun of me either. They stayed away from the spirit freak as well as possible, hushed whispers the only things I caught in the hallway while I just prayed that I would someday find a way to escape them, that one day they wouldn’t find me anymore.
And they followed me anywhere.
In high school I snuck my way into a party, trying to be like other teenagers. I hoped that it would be fine with everyone amusing themselves, drinking and dancing together. But it didn’t stop the looks, it didn’t stop them from skirting away from me.
I ended up escaping the dancefloor to a quieter hallway, leaning against the wall just to calm myself down again when someone came around the corner. It was the most popular guy in school, the one all the girls fawned over. A guy who would never acknowledge me. I thought.
But he did acknowledge me, and more than that. He handed me a drink, pushing the glass into my hands. I was breathless, didn’t know how to respond to it. He told me that he’d been interested in me from the start, that he wanted to get to know me better.
Something told me it was wrong, that it wasn’t possible and that I should be careful. But I couldn’t resist him, standing so close to me, leaning in for a kiss. I just closed my eyes, when I heard steps approaching.
And then the water hit me.
They were spread all around the hallway, water hoses in their hands as they soaked him in water. Just that I ended up getting soaked almost as much as he did.
He cursed, quickly stepping away from me and disappearing from sight. I burst out.
“What is wrong with you?! Can’t you just leave me alone one single time?!”
“We’re protecting you.”, I got for an answer, but I wasn’t happy.
“Protect me from what? From getting my first kiss?!”
One of them took the glass I was still holding out of my hand. “From getting a spiked drink.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, slumping back against the walls. I was close to tears, ready to head home for the night.
“If you don’t want us showing up, make sure you take care of yourself and we won’t have to.”
And take care I did.
From that day, I avoided any possible harm that could come to me, meticulously making sure I wouldn’t need their help again. It took careful planning, constant discipline, but I was rewarded with spirit-free years.
More than that, being so careful brought me a better job. My boss promoted me, entrusted me with crucial information that he gave no other employee. That was when they came back.
I didn’t understand what was wrong, that day he seemed angry at me all of a sudden, yelling at me, even throwing the papers I had handed in back at me. My colleagues continued working quietly, not even seeming to care until the first man walked into the room.
They sprayed down the entire office, messing up papers, soaking everyone present once again. One colleague of mine especially seemed to be their target, caught with his hand reaching for my computer.
Since that day, I don’t question when these men show up in my life again. Maybe it is that I have grown older than they seem to be, maybe it is that I have gotten used to cleaning up the water damage they have caused, or that I have a family of my own now. But when they sprayed down our Sunday breakfast, I didn’t even bother looking for the source of harm anymore.
And now seeing you, my child, I have a feeling that they have come to protect me for the last time. Because now I know why my grandmother told me the story of the water spirits at that age, when I was just as old as you are now.
It is you that will be in their care, and I’m afraid there is no way you can avoid what is coming for you, these spirits of which I’m still not sure if they’re a blessing or a curse.
But I know for sure now that nothing bad will ever happen to you. At least nothing worse than them.