SM 1Username: MotherMother
Story:I'm sitting here with my best friend, Finnegan.
What makes a best friend? I think it's someone who is always there for you when you really need them. Someone who doesn't judge you, criticize you, or hurt you. Someone that you miss when they are gone.
Finnegan fits that description.
I know people might judge me for it. People aren't ready to accept that someone other than another person can mean so much to you. I've been called anti social, a hermit, and a weirdo just for having a fish for a best friend.
I don't hate people. I love them actually! My heart has a lot more room for love than people think!
As I sit here with my finger dipped in his fishbowl, I think back to when we first met.
I was at the carnival, wading through a sea of stands and games, I saw something that made me stop and gasp. There was a booth where, if you could land a ring over the neck of a bottle, you could take home a goldfish.
I didn't know that this was still a thing. I thought society had agreed that keeping fish in a tiny bowl in a loud carnival was undoubtably cruel.
I approached the stand, and a young kal looked over his shoulder and spotted me.
"Wanna try? Only $5 for 10 rings." He chewed on a toothpick as he spoke.
I thought carefully. If I did, wouldn't I be supporting this practice? I almost turned away when I spotted the tiniest fish floating miserably near the bottom of its minuscule bowl.
I handed him $5, and told him it was wrong to keep fish in such terrible conditions. His demeanour changed immediately and he glared at me. "Yeah, yeah. Go preach to the president. They're just fish."
I hadn't felt so angered and disgusted in my whole life. I sealed my lips and wouldn't reply.
My first toss missed horribly. One by one, I threw the rings at the arrangement of bottles. Not a single one landed around the neck.
The operator smirked. I handed him another $5.
Eventually, after repeated attempts, I opened my wallet and saw the lone bill. I took a deep breath and focused while I shot my final 10 rings.
CLINK!
At last! I jumped for joy and ginned at the operator. He let me choose a fish.
Most were dull with sadness from the fair, but one in particular looked in extra need of help. It was that little runt of a fish I'd spotted before.
When I took Finnegan home, I never expected that the small rusty scrap would grow into a beautiful golden-orange fish and a constant companion for many years today.
He's who made me fall in love with fish.
To the dismay of that man and his business, I did write a letter that was picked up by my local newspaper. After extensive public speeches and intense convincing, fish at carnivals is now banned.
Word-count: 500