My name is Marissa Coldwell and today my dream is finally coming true. When you first get the SRP injection they don't tell you how the animal starts to seep into your thoughts like a cool, fragrant mist. It's so gradual and slow that you're only startled to realization of your life changing forever when those breaths of unexpected feelings and urges waft by for a visit with your human sensibilities. This past year has flown by, and although my body is now unrecognizable from the woman I was before, I can't help but feel that I've seized back an identity for myself that I didn't know was lost.

As my friends and family work together to help push me the last short ways out into the water I know without a doubt that I am happy. The grit of the sand passing across my belly gives way to the coolness of the incoming tide. My tail flukes slap down hard in excitement behind me and I feel my mother rubbing large circles across the smooth, muscled skin of my back. I try my best to help their efforts, digging out small furrows that are immediately filled by seawater as my pectoral fins press down, but that only aches my already strained shoulders from the bulk of my body even further. I release a deep exhale through the blowhole atop my head, trying to relax and trust the efforts of those who are here for me. The grand face of the sun is mostly hidden behind a drifting cloud, only granting a cursory peek at the sight of the creature who was once a woman now becoming a part of the sea. More water flows underneath me, and with a mighty, collective heave I feel the land give away completely. And then I am floating, free and enveloped within the infinite blue.

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When I first announced to my parents that I wanted to go through the species reassignment procedure, they thought I was joking. It didn't do me any favors that pranking your loved ones with fake announcements and videotaping their reactions had become the latest internet craze. I had made the mistake of telling them during one of our family dinners. Mom had made her signature meatloaf and lasagna with the slightly too crispy bottom from a neglectful ear of the oven timer in favor of continuing to watch her sitcoms in the other room. My two younger brothers were arguing over which of them had made a larger contribution to winning their team's playoff-qualifying football game when I stood up and announced that I wanted to become an orca.

The species reassignment procedure, or SRP as it was more commonly known was facilitated through GenUCore, a genetic modification and enhancement company. The company had gotten its roots in gene therapy, and quickly rose to prominence for its unmatched ability to identify, treat, and eliminate many genetically predisposed or caused ailments. The treatments were heralded as a new age for humanity, and quickly found backing from a multitude of investors wanting to get a piece of the emerging technology.

It was by accident that the procedure was found to result in more profound alterations when one of the lab workers processed a contaminated viral cargo load from a patient that was mixed with his dog's DNA. The gentleman had subsequently sprouted a thin coating of fur and a tail along with other minor physical alterations. The case had been noted, and with pressure from investors tweaks were made in further trials until the foundations for the current SRP clinical model were formed. Kathy Morrison, a leading environmental biologist in her field of study with blacktail deer was the first to identify the potential of the model in the restoration of endangered species in her latest book which had become an international sensation.

From there GenUCore fought a fierce legal battle against the regulations and requirements such a procedure would entail for the human populace. Arguments in favor of the potential to bolster endangered species population numbers while also simultaneously reducing human overpopulation and relief on an economy burdened by an increasingly crowded workforce were cited. These were balanced against the ethical and moral concerns of changing someone's humanity, but within a few years once SRP had been evaluated by federal courts that the procedure did not result in unnecessary mental or physical harm, death row inmates were given the choice of the procedure as well. Soon after the first public Converts were already signing their waivers, eager to do their part towards helping reestablish a balance that they believed would be towards the benefit of humanity as a whole.

For me, getting the chance to become one of those creatures of the sea was much more personal than solely wanting to help their numbers, although I would be glad that I would contribute against their continued decline. Sometimes I felt selfish in craving to have this opportunity for myself and not wanting to be some grand hero celebrated as someone who helped turn the tides of extinction. Going through with this, I knew from the bottom of my heart that it had to be for me first and them second. There would be no other way I could do it.