Barren Wasteland

"Almost there..." my voice strains as I reach for fishing net wrapped around my fin. "Come onnnn... yes!" I pull the piece of waxy, woven rope with a final yank and it springs loose.

"Ridiculous," I huff underneath my breath. These humans are going to kill everyone on the planet, wasteful, disgusting creatures.

I swim up to the surface and toss the rope onto a nearby jetty. If they're going to pollute my home, I'm going to pollute theirs. They deserve it.

Dipping back under the water, I take a deep breath of frustration.

I remember when the water filtering through my gills used to be clean. When taking a big breath actually relaxed, rather than angered. Now I breathe and feel the pollution fill my lungs, suffocating me even more with every deep inhale. Everyday my chest burns more just from trying to survive.

I glance at the small gash left on my tail from the fishing net, and something floating past my fin catches my eye.

"Oh no, little buddy."

A small, yellow seahorse glides past me, it's delicate tail wrapped around a cotton swab, like a python entrapping its prey.

"Come here," I reach my finger out and his small tail curls around it. "Let's find a better place for you to sit," I say with a smile.

I scan the ocean floor, cringing when I once again take in what's left of the coral reef. What once used to be a living masterpiece is now a barren canvas, scratched and derived of it's beauty.

Amongst skeletons of what used to be magnificent creatures and desolation, I find a small alcove in a large rock containing a magical piece of seaweed. I lower the small seahorse down to it and he immediately latches.

"There you go, little fella" I smile at him and turn to stare at the vast ocean desert stretched in front of me.

"Ungrateful humans. They invade, they destroy, and they leave. We were here before them, but we won't be here after," I speak to the seahorse, who must feel safe in his little cave.

I remember a time I felt safe, now all I feel is fear.

Fear of the future, of what's to become of my home. Fear of what will happen to me when the inevitable course finally takes action. Fear of having the same fate as my family.

Those who don't hunt the creatures living here are still killing them through their own selfish consumption. A set of plastic bottle rings suffocating a majestic sea turtle, a plastic straw lodging the blowhole of an innocent bottlenose. Where does it stop? When is it going to stop?

Glancing out into the barren wasteland I see the glistening of the sea in the distance.

Maybe there's hope. Maybe they can change.

Maybe our world can still be saved, if humans are willing to save it.