Life of a Shark

[Lief Erikson]

Day 1: Beginning

The breath of life.

Warmth surrounds me. All is dark and comfortable. I can feel something moving next to me.
It is slightly rough, and I float away from it. All I want is to be left in peace . . .

Day 16: Time of Birth

What is this? Pressure on all sides, and a squirming behind me. Something is also in front of me, pressuring me and squeezing. All of that dark, comfortable void has been compressed into a pushing, squeezing forceful motion. I struggle to get back; back into what I know and where I am truly at home. Comfort is here, but I am being pushed out into the unknown.
What is out there?
Panic courses through my veins and I struggle. For the first time in my life, I see a faint light ahead. A webbed surface is in front of it, and light is filtering slightly through it. There is a dark blue out there, and instinctively I fear it.
I struggle back, but there is something behind me. It is moving, and I feel something slightly nip my tail.
I am shocked and instantly struggle away from it, wriggling and biting. My gums connect with something, but it is solid.
I am squeezed forwards again.
The webbed surface brushes against my nose and I try to back away again. There is no where to back up against, and my tail is nipped again.
A convulsive heave from the forces behind me suddenly thrust me against the webbing. It tears, and my tail falls through. It instantly is wrapped up in shocking cold, and I struggle to no avail to get back inside. Something bumps into me, and I have a fin in my face, batting fiercely at my eyes and nose. Instead of making headway, I am suddenly thrown entirely out.
Everything is cold. Senses flood my veins, things that I had never known or even considered.
Something else is jutted out next to me, and it takes a moment to realize it is my sister. She still has some of the webbing hanging from her dorsal fin, and looks wild and afraid.
I move away from her; she is dangerous right now.
A gigantic shadow covers me, as an enormous shape moves overhead. It is truly gigantic, but somehow I know that it is not threatening.
The enormous white underbelly of the shark passes completely, and the creature moves slowly off, disappearing in the murky water.
My sister is also moving off in a different direction, moving closer to the sandy floor for safety.
I am on my own.


One year later: A strange creature

I swim slowly over the sandy ocean floor, keeping an eye out for either danger or possible prey. There is little enough in this area, and my fast has been for too long. Already my energy reserves are getting rather low. However, recently the amount of seaweed has increased, and the sea floor has been rising steadily. I am probably coming out of the deeper waters now, but it is still plenty deep enough to hide me from unwanted attention. Other sharks are the main threat, especially others of my own species. I have seen only two of them in my life, not counting my sister and mother. I am already beginning to forget them.
Of these other two, only one was big. I had moved to the bottom of the sea floor to avoid it, and it did not realize I was there. I am built for precision movement, and can detect creatures a good way away. How, I do not know. But I learned long ago that splashing or struggling movement leads to prey. This has worked in my advantage several times, and even though I am yet too young to make much use of it, sometimes it leads to a tasty morsel that no other shark has gotten to yet. Once when following such indications, I found a creature that was rather too large for me. Excellent future prey, I know, but it is still too big. It was large, brown, and the scent of its blood told me it was deliciously tasty. If only I was bigger . . .
Hmmm. This is interesting. Ahead of me is a strange creature swimming through the water. It is rather ungainly and not very well built for swimming in the sea. What is it?
I swim in closer for a better view. It is pale, like the sand, but red around the middle. The strange red material flaps out from it as it moves. It has four limbs protruding from it, two on the top and two on the bottom.
Wait . . . it has seen me. It is slightly larger than I, but it still appears to consider me a threat. It is fleeing back towards shallower water. All other food I have eaten were different from this; darker color and delicious tasting.
It is moving a good deal faster than before on the way back, and continually glancing backwards at me.
I follow it a little ways, but soon turn back. It doesn’t matter overly much, and I am never going to eat one of those. Even when I do get big enough.