All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
A Cat in Love with a Fish
He was an ugly and lonely cat. A forgotten cat without any friends or family. Or master. Kids screamed and threw rocks at him, because of patches of his exposed skin. His satiny fur and iridescent sheen was destroyed in a disaster.
He was still a little kitty when it happened.
There were revulsion every time he tried to think about it. The only indistinct scenes were filled with fire. Flames red as blood, hot as hell, with cries from different victims, no matter cats or human beings.
He guessed he's the only one immune to the fire.
She was a beautiful but lonely fish, an exquisite ornament more than a live creature in a fish bowl. That's a pretty small fish bowl, small and of course, brittle. With sands and marbles and gravel, her shelter is a gracious paradise. But still that's only a shelter, which can never be changed, instead of a home.
Her only family, if you want to call them that, is a heartily laughing Spongebob Squarepants, which of course is an ornament, too. That's why she believes he's her family, an ornament and an ornament. She talks to him every day, even though he never responds, which she considers as shy but kind of rude. But she doesn't mind; hers is a silent language, so she never expects him to speak back. And she believes he responds every time silently.
A life with only communication between a fish and Spongebob, each bubble emitted and faded eventually, was the life of a lonely golden fish.
It's a fairly sunny day, with him gallivanting about the neighborhood for some possible snacks.
It's a fairly sunny day, with her chatting with Spongebob.
It's a fairly sunny day, the day when they met.
Without preparation, their eyes just met, abruptly. She raised her glance, he glanced down. The winter sunshine thawed gently, atmosphere became inscrutably genial, like a gem glinting in a sunbeam. Clumps of clouds humbly stepped aside, and introduced chinks of azure. Halted for a few seconds, time didn't dare to breathe.
Different from any other parts of the body, they met eye to eye. What they saw was not only a foe, their feud decided; not only a prey; not only an ungainly cat and a fragile fish. But also through the eyes, they felt some kinds of connection. As delicate as morning dew, as cheerful as a bunny, as mysterious as a fiction. They felt something growing in their hearts, unbelievably ridiculous and incurably resolute.
A cat fell in love with a fish.
He didn't hesitate to jump into the room. But then stopped. His rationality scolded him for being reckless, and he realized he was. Even though, he tried to convince himself:
"It's okay. I mean no harm."
He paused, and added:
"I just want to give her a closer look."
He was convinced, and leaped over the gap to get on the desk. Standing near the fish bowl, a frenzied but unconquerable urge caught him.
With a shortening distance, she felt lightheaded. A desire emerged from the deepest part of her soul.
Kiss her, he thought.
Kiss me, she thought.
He stooped down.
The sun was dropping down behind the horizon.
His paw accidentally pushed the fish bowl. As light and brittle as it looked, the bowl revolved around and fell from the edge of the desk. Pain grew in his heart as he realized what had happened, but he couldn't do anything in that fraction of a second. Anything except watching his true love fall in vain struggle.
He jumped down, and saw a ground full of shards. Shreds of glass still shining in the last few threads of sunbeams before twilight. The room feels like--in some ways--Shakespeare, sad but beautiful. She twisted and throbbed among the biggest piece of glass with little water.
Then he saw a large vase with some water in the corner of the room. He knew what he should do. He could just gently put her in his mouth, gently walk to the vase, and gently let go of her. No longer than a second later, he did it as quickly as gentleness allowed. "I won't hurt you, don't be afraid, I won't hurt you, I promised." He muttered.
Sky was darkening.
"What the heck are you doing here, you old ugly cat?" A hoarse voice yelled, with a few heavy steps he didn't notice before. That would be the master of this house, and it seemed he finally got home. He was suddenly so alarmed and frightened that he couldn't move, and he made the most terrible decision he would never make. If only he still had a little bit consideration instead of natural instinct.
After realizing the situation, he escaped from the house. He lay on the grass and stretched his throat, his chest, his stomach. A fire flaming in his body. He could never believe what stupid and brutal thing he had done. He ate his love.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to... You are so tiny, I'm sorry!" He kept saying it over and over with remorse and immeasurable pain, even though nobody else could hear it. Well, nobody but himself and her. As she was now part of him.
"That's okay, I understand everything." He heard her melodious voice echoing in himself.
"Will you please possibly forgive me then?" He was still struggling to dig a hole in his belly.
"Of course, I could never grow mad at you. And finally, we are together!"
He stopped for a long silence. And got up and ran to the roof.
The master of the house was still blaming the evil cat and cleaning up the room, when he heard a muffled sound. A sound like a bag of flour thrown from a truck. He walked outside, because if this was another trick from the hooligans in the neighborhood, he swore he'd smack them.
And he saw the corpse of the lonely cat. Lying on his turf. "Well, then here came your retribution, you rascal." The master said, with a sneering smile. And he went inside again, laughing at the stupid cat who had stolen his fish and and accidentally fallen from the roof.
But the master, and everyone else, would never understand why the cat was smiling.
Because we're both forgotten, we have to remember each other.
Because we're both lonely, we have to be lonely together.