On Display

Knock knock knock...

(Louder) Knock knock knock...

"Fishy can you hear me?"

I tried to ignore the incessant noise from that thing on the other side of the glass. The ugly mermaid with no fins can't even swim properly and he wants to know if I can hear him?

Yes, I can hear you. Can you stop touching the glass?

It's bad enough that I'm stuck in here. But imagine having to swim all day in the same place and then have to see the same unattractive creatures with different faces. I'd rather have a crocked dorsal fin. Let's face it. I don't have much to look forward to anyways. Maybe a crooked dorsal fin would make things more exciting, since I'm stuck here anyways. I really miss my home and could use the distraction.

How long I've been here, I don't know. It's too hard to keep track of time. It's monotonous. But what I do know is that I'm too far from the waters I come from. So I've never tried to escape. And even if I made it back home I'd have little to no hope of finding my family again. The seas and oceans, as you call them, are far beyond what you can comprehend. That's why we stick so close together. If we lose one another, we're on our own. It's not impossible to find each other, but it's just not probable. So here I am, alone.

I'm not physically alone. There are a lot of sea creatures here. Honestly, it's a little crowded. But I don't know anyone. So I'm isolated in a full room. All of us strangers yet we are probably the only familiar faces we will see from now on.We have no hope of returning to our native waters, no hope of returning home.

And so here I am making the best of this depressed prison, this place where fish don't even swim with joy. We float through our thoughts through out the day remembering what life was like when the Sun shown down until only darkness existed. And then the real chill of the water in the darkness caressed you. But in here, it's always too bright. It's never dark enough for the water to be just right. It's... warm. And to top if off we can't even get away from the whales.

I see everyone gazes at them through the glass in awe. And when they "sing" people go wild like they've never heard anything more beautiful. I'd say listened to literally anything else would be better. They're so loud I don't know what to do with myself. I'd rather hear that little beached mermaid knock on the glass and yell at me because a whale's deep wooing whine is not singing. I can tell you that without a doubt. But if it were, it'd be the most annoying "song" ever made. Why do you think no one swims around them when they are close by? They're big, loud, and way too proud of nothing.

Oh look, just in time!-- Here's my buddy swimming up. He'll probably try and swim up to the glass and be cute with the kids. He likes them. They remind him of better times. He says he used to swim with them sometimes. Apparently he swam with almost every kind of animal there is or was. I met him when I got here. Super chill guy. Good with the ladies. And everyone loves him. We swim together a few times a day and talk about nothing and day dream. He's crazy. He tells me about all the adventures he had when he was free. He's older than anyone in here but you couldn't tell. I didnt believe him at first but he knows more than anyone I'd ever met. He's fun. But he also teaches me. And I guess now that I think about it he gives me something to swim towards. It's small but it's enough for now. It's more than I could ask for in a place I didn't ask to be.