From the Fish Bowl
This one is a challenge for me. Writing from first person, from the perspective of a fish, in reference of a teenage Hotch, with occasional appearances from Sean; let's see how this ends, shall we?
CCOAC Round 13 Challenge: The Dog Days of Summer
Character: Aaron Hotchner
Pet's name: Pepper
Pet's type: Goldfish
The view never changes from my bowl. Well, almost never anyway.
The human whose room in which I reside is not the neatest of humans, and neither is the smaller one who likes to barge in when he's not here.
The bed is almost never made, the sheets, pillows and quilt left tangled in a heap every morning before he rushes out, hastily shoving a pile of stuff into his bag.
Sometimes I think he forgets I'm here. I mean, he does feed me, just maybe not every day. He does clean my water, but sometimes he leaves it until it's a little too green for my liking. At least he gives me things to play with, but god that thing in the corner scares me!
I've been living on the top of the bureau ever since he brought me home from the store, separating me from everyone else I was born with. Despite the mess on the bed and the floor, my surroundings are surprisingly clean.
That may also have something to do with the nice woman who does remember to feed me every morning after he rushes out the door. She cleans the bench around my bowl, feeds me, then shakes her head at the sight of his room, and stuff, around her feet, before leaving for another day.
When I said the view never changes from my bowl, I wasn't exaggerating.
Every now and again, he picks the clothes up off his floor, straightens his bed, sorts out the piles of books scattered everywhere.
Even less frequently, the younger human makes an appearance, and both make loud noises before slamming a door.
When the change in view did come, it took me by surprise.
One day, my human brought home another one, and judging from the differing body types, this one's female.
The first time she appeared in my view, both humans are really nervous. Nothing really happens; they sit awkwardly on his bed, not touching each other, having a stilted conversation. They pull books out, working from the same page, as if one is helping the other, but other than that, nothing happens.
What a disappointment.
The next time she turns up, they're more comfortable in each other's presence. It takes them longer to pull the books out, and they're sitting closer together on his bed.
After she leaves that day, I see a noticeable change in my view.
My human actually cleans his room! Complete with vacuuming, window washing, mirror cleaning, and new accessories for my bowl. He even cleans it before the green gets too noticeable!
And then the biggest change of all. A pottery bowl appears on the dresser next to me, partially blocking the view; it's only of the wall, and I can still see everything, but that's not the point.
The next time the female appears, the book bags are abandoned just inside the door. They attach at the face; lips I'm assuming, it's rather disconcerting; and they struggle to tug each other's clothes off. It's then that I find out what's in that new pottery bowl next to mine.
She rips whatever it is open with her teeth, pulling something brightly coloured out of it before rolling it onto… that.
She's the only person I've seen touch… that, other than him; and that ended… let's just say it was messy, and leave it there.
She rolled the brightly coloured thing onto that, then for some strange reason sat on him. It must be a good thing, because he normally only makes that noise before messy things happen. I'm not entirely sure what happens next, but considering the noises both of them are making, I can only assume it's not bad.
When they're done, the brightly coloured thing goes in the other new addition to the room; from the looks of things, it's for waste, because that's where they scary thing went when he took it out of my bowl.
He slips on enough clothes to cover… that. She puts on everything he took off, except one thing; she leaves that on his pillow, and I'm wondering what the significance of it is. Their faces attach again, but this time it's different, slower; definitely calmer. She picks up her book bag before slipping out the door, closing it behind her.
As soon as we're alone again, he begins some strange looking dance, but at least he looks more comfortable than he did when they first walked in.
So maybe I was wrong when I said the view from my bowl never changes, because she became a regular visitor to the room, and the view changed quite a bit.
My human is growing up, slowly but surely. I don't know how many times I witnessed the female sitting on him; I was even more shocked when they connected at the same area, but different ways.
Eventually, that female disappeared, but another one took her place, and the acts I continued to witness changed, but still remained the same.
The younger human was obviously growing up as well, because one day he visited quietly, taking a handful of the things from my new companion, the pottery bowl; I can only assume the same activity is now taking place in his room, too.
The view only changed one more time, but this time, it wasn't a good change. One day, my human brought in these massive coloured box-like things, and all of a sudden his possessions were being put in these boxes. My companion didn't move, but its contents were placed in what looked like a smaller version of the coloured box thingy, attached to the top of the biggest one. Then, the worst thing of all happened.
The view changed totally, because my human picked up my bowl with me in it, and I found myself in the younger human's room. He placed me on a similar perch; I can see everything, so at least that was comforting, but that meant only one thing.
My human is leaving.
The younger human became my new human not long after, and despite the fact that I barely knew him before I became a permanent fixture in his room, I think I like him.
There's one view that hasn't changed though. My new human also has females visit his room, and they're doing the same thing my last human did with his females. Thank god for small miracles.