By JenD <jmdipalma@azalea.shc.edu>
Rated: G
Submitted: July, 2005
Summary: A small world filled with murky despair. Definitely a job for Superman. If only he'll notice he is desperately needed.
It was a sad, meager existence. One that depended on the grace and supportiveness of others. She was kept alive but just barely. A cage. That's what she was trapped in. This life filled with the pathetic sounds of despair. A pathetic swim upstream at most.
Battling starvation.
Death.
A life of struggle.
A murky existence.
Her only source of water was disgusting. The dead were not fit for it.
Where would her next meal come from? Or would there be a next meal? Would these be her last starving days? Full of hopelessness? Sorrow? Grief? Pain? Were the others around her feeling this way? They moved about their day solemnly. Silently.
Traumatized.
And then there were her…her masters.
Evil. Pure evil. There were no other words for it.
Going about their days.
Watching them suffer from afar.
Laughing at them…talking about them…pointing at them…
Every single one of them. Except one, perhaps. Him. He…he cared. As much as a master can care. As much as he is allowed to care. As much as she would let him care.
Watching them from afar.
Studying them.
Filled with suspicious behavior.
He bent down towards them. "For God's sakes, Lois, when was the last time you fed your fish?"
The end
Notes: I didn't want to spoil the ending, so here's the real life story that accompanies this bit of fanfic. I'm notorious for killing fish and plants. It's like a hobby. Some people sew, I kill things. Anyway, one of my roommates wandered into my room and commented, "JD, I think your fish is dead." I promptly replied, "No, no, you just have to hit the tank a little." So I started thumping the tank, and my fish finally jumped and started moving around.
Oh, and one other thing since I'm on a roll down here. Thanks, CC! My GE is awesome.