Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Bagging day.
Of course, I had heard of it before, from my dad (when he was occasionally muttering to himself while we were still in our eggs). It was a day when young adult bettas would be put in small containers, or bags, and be transported to a 'pet store'.
This had been going on for generations (I think), and is a major part of our lives. This is the day, and continues from now on, to determine what our future will be. Some will go onto healthy, spoiled lives, while others would waste away in future owner's aquariums. I hoped that a well-experienced and responsible human would choose me - and I shudder to think the opposite...
We all waited in silence, and even the pure menaces of the aquarium wouldn't dare say a word, as that could jeopardize of ever being put into a new home. Halford would occasionally nip at other young bettas, and his lackeys would keep a safe distance from him, as Halford today was unusually grumpy. Vorum would stay at the surface, peering into the lights that lit our aquarium, mesmerized. Highlight would just stick to the shadows, and every so often come into the light for a little breather at the surface.
Me? Well, I just drifted through the waters, not having the fear from any other bettas, as I was the Most Aggressive of them all.
I think we may've been waiting for hours on end, 'till eventually our owner came back from something called 'school'. And yes, we can understand our owners, or at least get vibes, and try to decipher what they say depending on how low or high their voice is. Confusing? Yeah, but whatever.
Anyway, our owner came back and started to get out a notebook, while sitting in front of us. Our owner peered deeply at each one of us, and started writing something down in the notebook. I guess it's to see who would be fit enough to go to a new home, and if anybody wanted us.