A School of Fish

First assignment writing for my ENGL 0401 Course. The theme was: "A teacher’s job, he said, was to equip the children with tools against loneliness." Word Limit: 500 - 750 words. This isn't necessarily a "final draft"(though I did submit this draft for first submissions), and is a shortened version of the longer story I was hoping to write. I will most likely revisit and revise this piece.

Da-yeon was excruciatingly normal. 

In school, she was just one of those many classmates you would pass by in the hallways. Not much was unique about her home life either. She had felt an average amount of joy and faced an average amount of hardships in her 15 years of life.

The only thing special about her was her pet fish.

Her talking pet fish.

The day she met Gyo, the pale winter sunlight hit the surface of the dingy plastic cup the little fish was in perfectly, forming a halo of blurry luster. His silky dorsal fins, flashing shades of orange, aquamarine, and periwinkle, reminiscent of the tropical countries that should have been his home. Da-yeon, then 12 years old, was enthralled by his elegance. She brought him home that very day, moving him over to a more spacious, luxurious, oxygenated fishbowl. Right after she laid the bowl down on her nightstand, a foreign voice bubbled up from the water.

“Hey. What’s your name?”

Da-yeon yelped and almost knocked over the bowl as she jolted away — and that would have ended the conversation then and there. But after a lot of screams and interrupted attempts to call the police, she eventually calmed down, and carefully listened to what the fish had to say. 

Gyo had randomly, and unknowingly, developed the ability to speak one day. He begged her not to tell anyone in fear of being experimented on or killed. As a captive betta fish, he was destined to live a short life anyway — and he hoped to spend the rest of his days peacefully floating around his tank. 

Converse to her initial hysteria, Da-yeon adjusted quickly to her new companion. Gyo was actually quite pleasant to talk to, though he could sometimes be cranky about the fishbowl’s water temperature. After a long day of school and homework, Gyo always lent a listening ear to her rants. To be fair, he had not much else to do. When Da-yeon headed off to school, he would perpetually wait for her to arrive again, traversing the little space he’d already explored time and time again. 

Three years is a short time for humans, but a lifetime for fish. Gyo’s fiery red scales now were more of a hazy crimson, and he no longer swam around his well-explored tank. He still listened intently to whatever Da-yeon had to say, but he didn’t speak as much as before. The currents of time had made him wiser, though, and Da-yeon would often seek his advice on her life’s turmoils. 

Now that she had just started high school, Da-yeon had been consumed with thoughts about herself and her suffocating ordinariness. Always sitting in the bleachers, admiring those that were brave enough to be shone with spotlights on the stage of life, she yearned to be “special”. Naturally, she confided with Gyo. 

“It’s just,” she started, “I feel so plain. And alone.”

“Alone? How so?”, Gyo asked, twirling leisurely near the water surface. “You said you were ‘plain’. Does that not mean you are a part of the masses?” The fluorescent lights above him reflected a gleam in his amber eyes. “How could you possibly feel alone?”

“It’s like… I blend in real easy with the crowd. I’m not special, you know? I’m not particularly important. I’m just… there.” She pressed her lips together in a frown.  “I don’t need the kind of ‘special’ where everyone is in love with me. I just…” she trailed off, trying to find the best words to communicate her sentiment. “I want to be noticed and appreciated and… and admired. By one person, at least.”

“Ah,” Gyo ruminated, “Lonely, Da-yeon. You feel lonely, not alone. And you believe that being more unique, more… distinguishable, more lovable, would aid you in avoiding this.”

Before Da-yeon could respond, Gyo cut her off. There was an unusual air of determination about him which had been difficult to see from the aging fish for the past year or so. “Da-yeon, Look at me. I’ve lost a lot of my beauty now, but you remember how magnificent I was in my youth. In fact, my ‘unique’ elegance is what made you choose me. But here I am now, losing my beauty and vitality to the cruelty of time. Born a fish, I can’t even move outside of this bubble of water when you leave me.”

As he spoke, Gyo swam closer to the walls of the cell that confined him, and gently nudged it with his snout.

“Da-yeon, there is no solution to loneliness. No matter beautiful, ugly, special, subpar, or just plain normal, we all are, and will continue to be, lonely beings.”