Short Lived Reality

9 Nov

Today was the day I was separated from my family. I have been living in a glass container with my family for 15 days. They have been with me ever since I was born. Five of my brothers and six of my sisters have been taken from me by the loud, big-eyed captors. My mother tells me they are part of a savage, ever living species and are known as “humans”.  I see them more as villains, hunters who take my species captive just for fun.

Today, our caretaker, a large, hairy idiot who eats nauseating orange sticks, stuck his hand in our home and violated our privacy. He does whenever one of the smaller big-eyed captors sticks his nose and stubby fingers on our glass windows. This unfortunate event happens every so often and we all swim for our lives. Despite our efforts, he always catches one of us. Today, it was my turn.

Our caretaker stuck a plastic bag into our home and shook his hairy arm around. It felt like the end of the world for us as we chaotically swam from one end to another. He grabbed me by my fins and isolated me into the bag. He then handed me over to a small girl who took the bag, my new home, and created havoc. She shook my bag and created a hurricane. No matter how hard I tried, I could not move, I was a cripple in my new home. This was the moment I realized I did not have much longer to live—my life was almost over.


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