R.Y.B.

• Senura Pieris, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

It was a nice room. Plain, except for the aquarium in the corner.
A caste of black and glass held a mass of illuminated water. An encased paradise with a floor carpeted in pebbles and stone, the small grey light-house the only landmark over a green speckled scape. The fish inside were pretty, they kind of look like koi. Not like you actually know. You were just asked to look after them.
But that was ten years ago.
They were tiny when they first arrived. So was the boy who brought them. Marcus was the same age as you.
“Do you want to see my room?”
“My mom wouldn’t allow that.” Marcus shuffled nervously, throwing quick glances over his shoulder. Always expecting something.
“Oh.” You can’t help but feel disappointed. When your new neighbour refuses the all-important play-date invitation, it can be quite offensive. But you decide not to push it.
“I’m sorry,” Marcus mumbled dejectedly. (You remember that) he really did seem keen. Until his mother called and he bolted away. Like a frightened rabbit. Strange- even a five year old could notice.
The blue one was the prettiest. Her scales shimmered violet and sapphire and left tiny glimmering shadows in her wake.
Marcus looked tired, the grocery bags weighing down his spine. He told you once that he was a philatelist. He enthusiastically (secretly) guided you through his extensive collection of stamps- pointing out his favourites. You asked him why they all had fish on them. He says that they are the most beautiful creatures in the world. One day he would live at an aquarium.
The next day, Marcus introduced you to four very special friends.
The yellow one is the smallest, but that did not make him any less. He’s the one that thinks a lot and stands out the most.
You haven’t seen Marcus in a while. The apartment door is always closed and you here the strangest echoes from within. Muffled screams and the cackle of shattering ceramic.
Marcus appears again, more down-trodden than ever. You ask him if he wants to play. He says nothing. Maybe it’s that’s livid purple mark on his face. It looked angry. You wonder what could be going on behind that door.
The red fish is the one to rule them all. Early on she had commandeered a section of the tank for herself and none of the others dared to approach.
It had been years. Marcus is at your door. There’s a desperation in his blood-shot eyes that you knew was always there. Trembling, he pushes three containers into your hands.
“Take them.” his breath his heavy with the stench of drink. You vaguely recall the contents of that grocery bag. You begrudgingly agree. He buries his head in your shirt (sobbing) thanking you profusely, and leaves.
The apartment is screened off with yellow tape. You convince yourself that Marcus has finally gone to live at the aquarium.
It’s a lie you tell yourself every day.