Last winter, I began to keep fishes, of all kinds. But things did not go exactly the way it was supposed to be.They are alive at first, but their condition just went from bad to worse form the first weekend I took them home.

No matter what breed or size they were, they all end up with death within no more than 10 days, like a curse

It was cold that winter, so I place the blame on the freezing air.

Nevertheless, putting the tank next to the radiator is not the answer, obviously. They never made it for more than curse period.

I feel like giving up when the fifth batch died, but I couldn’t. It was addictive circle, and I kept buying new fishes and they chose to die after a week.

I suppose the fish hates me.

20 times and 75 fishes later, I decide to quit.

I clean the tank and put it away.

2 month ago, I went to the market and bumped into the shopman from whom I used to bought fishes. He recommended the lovely golden fishes to me and declared that they were a real budge, and worth buying.

I was still impervious even though he mentioned that they are easy to keep until he promised to give me another discount: a pamphlet for keeping fish as well as a bag of fish food.

I went back with four of them. I sincerely wish they are able to survive and have a long life span. 

Sometimes I assume they might be boring, so I put the water plant in the tank, along with rocks from the beach which they can play.

I carefully change half of the water as it was said in the book.

I went to check on them when I got up in the morning and once more after I came back from work.

I count the days they are able to move around in the tank and when the number comes to seven, two of them were not as active as before. They rest at the bottom and when I was nearby, they are still scared-I can tell-but they are too sick to swim away.

I was kind of frustrated.

Why?   

Why did  they hate me so much？

Why would they rather die than to live with me?

I swear that was that last batch. I wouldn’t nerve want to hurt them anymore. 

I stood in front of them, looking down, hopeless to do nothing, pick up the bag of fish food, opened it and spill some in the water.

They  did not even want to fetch for the food.

I left for work.

When I came back the next day, the picture in sight is far from I can imagine: they are all still alive and swimming freely ,up and down, chasing each other in the tank.

I put the food in the tank again, watching them darting towards the top for the meal and turn back to the bottom swiftly. 

They are so alive.

And suddenly it occurred to me that I had never get to feed them.

They were all starve to death.

Oh my god.