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In a wheelchair, pale, playing the victim.
I denied the Sirens' existence, said the ship was lost in a fire, and that Jessica and I escaped on a lifeboat.
The Sirens had lived deep in the ocean for centuries. Revealing them would bring illegal hunting, slaughter—extinction.
I had no right to judge them, to sentence them to death.
All I could do was spread rumors online about deep-sea Sirens luring humans with song. Those who believed would be cautious, maybe avoid harm.
As for Jessica, I sadly revealed she had persecution paranoia.
"I was Jessica's best friend. Many people witnessed our friendship. But she always believed I wanted to hurt her."
Jessica yelled that I was lying.
But I brought our mutual friends and her coworkers. They all said the same:
"Jessica's parents divorced early. Wendy was always there for her. It was genuine."
"Wendy did everything for Jessica. Like a personal assistant. I wished I had a friend like that."
"Jessica always talked behind Wendy's back. She even killed her dog."
"Once I heard Jessica say she'd find a way to get rid of Wendy. I thought it was a joke. Now it's creepy."
One after another, their words broke Jessica.
She screamed:
"You're all lying! You're working together! Wendy paid you! I'm telling the truth! The Sirens listened to her! They tortured me!"
Her collapsing emotions made people doubt her sanity.
After the conference, opinions shifted online:
"Knew it. Man-eating Sirens? Sounds crazy."
"Scary. Your best friend thinking you want to harm her? Chilling."
"Should we trust a research expert or someone with mental issues? Come on."
Jessica stopped streaming. Comments told her to get help.
I helped arrange a mental health facility for her.
She insisted she wasn't crazy.
But the diagnosis came back: persecution paranoia.
Jessica tore up the report, screaming "Impossible!"
I looked at her with pity. Everything went as planned.
She was my murderer. I wouldn't let her die easily.
I wanted to torture her—first, break her illusion with the Siren, destroy her health. Then let her think she could win. Finally, let public opinion destroy her mind.
If everyone says you're crazy, the more you deny it, the crazier you seem.
Besides, Jessica was already dark and sensitive. Facing questioning from all her friends and the whole world, how could she not break?
She refused treatment, became aggressive, threatened to kill me.
With a history of violence—killing my dog—she was forced into a mental institution.
When the door locked, my world finally quieted.
I smiled faintly and said goodbye.
What happens when you live long enough with the truly insane?
