The Sad Siren Song

She wore necklaces of coral, strings of pearls embracing her body, glinting back at the broken sunlight scattered across the sea floor. Her glassy eyes gazed up, somewhat worried, somewhat mournful, longing to leap above the waves, to sing that chorus of birds passing by. Longing for her voice to take flight, uninterrupted by ships sailing by. She wasn't born a killer; just cursed with a shadow of death; and a sea that washed her bloody hands.