The terrifying thing about Chlorine is when the story starts going the way that you feared it might go, it really goes there — it commits, it delivers, it doubles down, and it follows through. The plot is no less effective because of its predictable climax. It manages to deliver the exquisite despair that sets in after you realize that the scenario you imagined — the big one, the worst one — is actually taking place. It grabs you in a headlock, forces your eyelids open, and makes you watch.

Chlorine is the story of the conveniently named Ren Yu (人鱼 or “man-fish” in Chinese), a daughter of immigrants who falls in love with the water and becomes the star swimmer of her high school varsity team. Her mother is barely there for her, her father is literally absent, and her swim coach is an abusive and manipulative psychopath. She has one friend, who also happens to be infatuated with her.

Ren is obsessed with mermaids. In fact, she introduces herself as one in the opening chapter. The rest of the book is framed as the story of her metamorphosis.

We follow Ren through her formative years: interacting with fellow teens, learning the local culture, her crushes, her first sexual encounters, and, in an amazingly visceral and darkly comedic instance, her first period. We also get closely acquainted with Ren’s state of mind and how it develops alongside her physical self. Whether it’s by upbringing or it’s just her nature or because she suffers a blow to the head early in the story, it quickly becomes apparent that all is not right in Ren’s world.

There’s a fantastic primal element in Jade Song’s prose: a disturbing animalistic undercurrent runs through how everything is described, whether it’s about having sex or eating finger food. Chlorine proves that anything can be icky if you make the effort to approach it with just the right mindset. It fits the narrative perfectly, all the way to the culmination of Ren’s promised transformation.

Chlorine is a myriad of things: a look into the unique experience of a family in a foreign land, a story about the loss of innocence, a cautionary tale of unchecked obsession. And yes, it’s horribly disturbing and graphic and fans of thrillers and body horror will find it a delight to read.

Avid readers of teen drama and psychological thrillers will find a fascinating intersection of two great tastes here. Everyone else will still get a compelling story that is worth the read, but give your tolerance for nastiness a quick once-over before you dive in.