I remember being taken. The nets came and swept us up. Then they put me in a tiny pond that was smaller than it seemed. I spun in circles, dizzy and scared. I could see my siblings around me, but couldn’t get to them. Then the hands came. I hated the hands. They took my tiny pond and put me somewhere dark.

I went for days with no food. My tiny pond seemed to be shrinking. I couldn’t see anything. I was so scared I bit my tail. I tried to avoid the pile of poop, but my tiny pond moved so much it was impossible.

Finally, I saw some hands. They got my tiny pond. They made my pond bigger but didn’t scoop the poop out. A fish in a different tiny pond wanted to fight me. I showed him how big and beautiful I was, but he thought he was bigger and beautifuller. I turned my back to him, and saw another fish in a tiny pond. Everywhere I turned, I saw fish in tiny ponds. I flared my fins, because I’m the prettiest. And I didn’t want anyone in my tiny pond. I didn’t like it, but it was MINE.

The hands put my tiny pond next to two other fish. I named them Stu and Pid, because together they were stupid. I was the prettiest, obviously. We waited together, and fought every once in a while because they thought they were prettier than me. Our tiny ponds were dirty, but the hands never came to scoop the poop or make the tiny ponds bigger. Pid wasn’t feeling well. He didn’t swim around, and wouldn’t flare back at me. I thought he figured out that it was useless to compete with my beautifulness. But then he stopped moving, and his fins started getting fuzzy. One of his eyes fell off. Then some hands took him away.

Some hands took Stu away. They told him he was going to be very happy. The hands didn’t tell Pid that he was going to be happy. When the hands came for me, I wanted them to make me happy. Hands would pick me up sometimes. They’d frown, or say, “Oh, look at that one!” and put me down. I didn’t know how long it was, because the sun always shone there.

My pond was dirty, and I didn’t like it. Sometimes I ate my tail because I was so hungry. Then one day, I couldn’t see out of my left eye. It scared me. I was getting sick. I knew that Pid got sick, and I didn’t want to be like Pid. My eye started growing, and I bumped into the edges of my tiny pond. The hands that picked me up frowned, or said “EW!”, and put me back down.

I was dying. I was like Pid. I wasn't moving, I wasn’t flaring. I was sick and tired and sad. A pair of hands picked up my tiny pond. The hands said “Oh, you poor baby.” I tried to hide my ugly eye, but the hands were smarter than me. I thought the hands would put me down once they saw my ugly eye. I just wanted to sleep. The hands took my tiny pond somewhere else. I was too sick to be excited.

The hands were saying things to me I didn’t understand: things like “home”, “medicine”, and “big tank”. The hands put my tiny pond into a bigger pond. I looked around with my good eye. It was amazing! The bigger pond was so much better than my tiny pond! It had plants, and rocks, and bubbles. And it was so big! I could swim around and around and around! Eventually, the nice hands took a net and put me in the bigger pond. The water was so clean! I could breathe without poop. I explored slowly. My fins hurt. I hoped I could enjoy this new pond for a bit before I died.

The nice hands put something in my pond. It made my fins sting a little bit, but then they felt better. The sun went away for the first time in a long time. When it came back, so did the nice hands. They watched me swim. They gave me some food, and it was so yummy! It tasted so much better than my tail. They put more of the stinging thing in my pond.

I got used to having a sun that goes away, and my fins felt better every day. The nice hands watched me and talked to me a lot. They said things like “You look better”, and “What are you doing, silly baby?” The nice hands said “baby” all the time. I loved when the nice hands talked to me, because it made my pond feel nice. When I could see the nice hands, I would start dancing. I wanted the nice hands to come talk to me and watch me.

The nice hands cleaned my pond. I liked to tease the nice hands. I would flare, and bite the nice hands. Sometimes I swam through the nice hands. I liked playing with the nice hands. My ugly eye shrank down, but I still couldn’t see out of it. I felt better, and I wasn’t sick anymore.

Sometimes the nice hands would go away for awhile, and a different hands gave me my food. I didn’t dance for the different hands. I was sure the different hands were nice, but they weren’t the nice hands, and therefore were unworthy.

I lived a long time in my pond. The nice hands talked to me, and fed me, and played with me, and cleaned my pond. But I was getting old. I still danced and played, but when the nice hands weren’t there, I rested more. I just wanted to sleep. The nice hands asked me to eat, and asked me what was wrong. I just wanted to sleep. The nice hands watched me a lot, and I watched the nice hands back.

I laid down on the bottom of my pond, where I could see the nice hands. I was sad, but I knew the nice hands would go be nice to another fish.