I was born in a tide pool in the south of Myanmar. My mother was an oyster, and I was her precious pearl. I lived peacefully, always in my mother's warmth, watching the silver fish glimmer through the foamy water, listening to the salty breakers crash onto the sand. I spent my days and nights staring at the stars above. They were distorted, the water making sure of that. I longed to see their true brightness, but the sea stars waved at me below the surface, and were enough to keep my stargazing wish to a healthy curiosity.

 

One morning, I heard voices. They were unintelligible through the roar of the ocean and the swirl of the pool. A shadow blocked the sun, followed by a gurgle and a swoosh as I broke the surface. I no longer see my mother. I was slashed out and suffocated in foul-smelling, murky water, with thousands of pearls like me being blinded by an unnaturally white light. Following the chemical bath, we were sorted. A gray man with an eyeglass and deep wrinkles peered at me for hours, turning me over, inspecting for imperfections, misshapen bits, and size. His perverse eyes lingered until I was drilled and strung to a gold thread. I tried to forget these days, but I never will. The memories leave a brand on my soul, scorching and stinging.

 

Time passed, and I was set into a glass display case, with the same burning light as before. Businessmen in suits and ties came by the jewelry store, speaking a different language from the ones who had harvested me. Those businessmen always bought two items. A pair of diamond earrings for their wife, and a pair for their mistress. For a while, I saw only these men. Until Miss Selene. A man had left with two bags in his left hand, and a woman came through with the ding of the bell. Short with a round nose and tanned skin, her white hair tucked beneath a crochet hat, he seemed to radiate a light that I thought only came from the sky. She lacked perversity in her eyes.

 

"Oh, what's this one?" She inquired, pointing at me.

 

"That's a South Sea pearl, direct from Myanmar," the attendant behind the counter offered, "a rare natural saltwater pearl. You'd be lucky to get this one."

 

The woman smiled, staring even more inquisitively at me.

 

"My granddaughter's tenth birthday is coming up. I want to get her something special. She just adores pearls," she replied, still holding that smile on her slightly overlined lips.

 

"She'll love this one." At that, he squinted as, with his hand exaggeratedly cupped beside his mouth, he whispered, "If you want a birthday discount for her, I think I can make it happen."

~

Her granddaughter's name was Adria. Her hazel eyes shone with wonder when she saw me. She hugged her grandma tightly, light brown curls bouncing with energy. She turned and lifted her hair so Miss Selene could clasp the necklace chain around her neck. As she looked in her mirror that night, a gap-toothed grin spread across her face as her tiny hands cupped me. She had the draw of a soft wave, and I ebbed into her.

~

Throughout the years, I rarely saw her grin falter. Maybe once or twice when she fell off her bike, or when a disappointing grade stared up from her algebra test. It faltered, but never dimmed, like sunrays that pierced through the murkiest waters.

 

It did dim eventually, when she was sixteen at Miss Selene's funeral. The family stood among the pews long after the service; each person took their time to say goodbye. Squeezing me tightly in her not-so-tiny anymore hands, Adria shuffled to the coffin. I had been pressed so strongly between her chest and the silky smooth wood, I could feel the vitality of their bond pulling them together, like the tide to the moon.

 

Adria met Matt in her sophomore year of college. He sat next to her in a biology lecture, and they laughed for hours afterwards about the professor faking his Southern accent. Two months and eight dates later, he was her boyfriend. Her old twinkling laugh and ear-to-ear grin rushed back. She loved him, so I did too.

∼

"Oh my god! My necklace!" Adria shrieked during a late-night movie marathon.

 

She had been holding me in her hands until a particularly shocking scene from the horror movie onscreen made her tug the chain too harshly. The clasp finally broke after years of wear and tear had wrecked it. From the floor, I gazed up at the glowing stick-on stars that littered the otherwise bland ceiling of Adria and Matt's apartment.

 

"You okay, baby?" Matt asked, his concern apparent.

 

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just...." she looked at me with a quivering lip, "I've had that necklace for so long. I guess... I forgot it would break."

 

"I noticed. I haven't really seen you take it off."

 

"No. It was a gift from my grandma." She was still staring at me. I could see tears swelling in her eyes. "I wanted it to stay on a little longer."

~

Days later, I was set in a ring. Matt had promised that he would fix me, make me into something new.

 

At the wedding, I sat on Adria's finger. Light streamed through the chapel windows, and rainbows illuminated her face. I wished she could stay like that forever, set in stained glass. A picture of Miss Selene sat atop a crochet hat on the first pew. At the reception, she carried it to the dance floor and swayed back and forth with Matt, the frame in her arms as they danced.

~

Now I sit at the bottom of the bay. Everything is gloomy and muffled, as if the ocean were gutted. Adria had found the second jewelry box the day after her twenty-eighth birthday. Matt had bought her a pair of earrings, with a note for "The love of my life". The next morning, she found the second pair. It was also addressed to "The love of my life". He had bought one pair for his wife, the other for his mistress. They fought as I watched the sun rise and set. When the moon reached its peak, she left the apartment.

 

That night, she drove like a lightning storm. Lights flashing as we bolted into the dark. I remember swerving, speeding, crying, and her screams thundering in the air. Her grip on the wheel made her hands white and stiff. Her face was red, and sweat rained off her brow, streaming into her deranged eyes and making her hair stringy and wet. I could feel the electric shaking of her body as she shoved open the car door and flung herself onto the beach.

 

The waves carelessly broke onto the sand. She took a shaky breath as she stood, and we both took in the moon and stars shining on the inky water. The night was so calm, it was hard to believe anything was wrong in the world. Adria began taking small, bitter steps towards the water and became halfway submerged as she reached a shelf in the ocean. As her hand sank below the crests of the waves, so did I. She continued walking, tiny puffs of sand clouding around her feet. As she reached the point that only her shoulders and head were poking above the water, she began to lean until she was lying all the way on her back, floating on top of the waves. Her curly mermaid hair spread all around as the seas rocked us back and forth, a child in her crib. It seemed that she was bonding with the ocean, letting the sea tickle her until she was able to smile again, and the moon shine down on her until it forced her eyes open from the brightness. Slowly, I began to slip off her finger. It was time to let go, she knew. I knew too. The memories he had left her were not worth what her grandmother had given her. Memories branded her, leaving aching scars. I sank to the bottom, where I lie now. The stars are dark from here.