Disclaimer: The following post is meant to give those of us who started our first week of the spring semester a break by providing laughter, scoffs, and maybe tears. Thank you.
Oops, I did it again…I left my fish at home with the lady who murdered my first fish (rest in peace, Elmo the Beta): my mother. While I do realize this is the middle of the first week of the semester for some, including me, and I should have something school-related up, I do not. Yesterday was my first day of classes and even though I only had two, I feel burnt out. I could go on and whine about it, but I needed a break from school and those of you who are in the same predicament do, too.
The following story are based on true events. This story is to persuade you in taking your pet with you to school, for you never know what darkness said pet may face.
So without further ado here is the story of the late Elmo the Beta.
In which a beta fish is murdered, the author’s mother is the culprit, and the culprit’s husband confessed.
In order to evoke the emotions I deem appropriate, I feel it is most necessary to give you the backstory of Elmo the Beta.
In the spring of 2012 a very good friend of mine gifted me with Elmo the Beta as a method of asking me to Junior Prom. I responded with a “yes”, accepted the fish, and drove home with him (which proved to be a taxing journey as I live far from home and the bowl was not covered). Since that spring of 2012, Elmo the Beta had resided at the home of my family. His dwelling was an adequately-sized bowl that could be found either on the counter or table in the kitchen and dining area, respectively.
Elmo laughed, loved, and lived life to the fullest (okay maybe he just floated around, but that is not the point).
When it was time for me to start my current journey into the world of college, I decided to leave him at home with my parents until I returned with the correct papers signed to have him stay in my dorm with me. Then papers, projects, and exams were thrown my way and I quickly forgot about collecting the papers. I would go home about every three weeks, forget the papers, think about retrieving them when I returned to school, and forgot again.
I meant to clean his bowl when I came home each time, but I was either too tired, forgot, or just plain lazy (I’m a college student; give me a break). Sometimes, my mom would clean his bowl and keep Elmo the Beta happy.
Then, it happened.
Apparently, some time in the Fall 2013 semester, I had left for a period of time. Elmo’s bowl was dirty (or “covered in smog” as my mother deems appropriate for describing it). It was so bad, my normally sarcastic and diabolical mother decided she would clean it, probably because it was in her kitchen and she was tired of looking at it.
So she cleaned the bowl she did with water and probably a towel. When the temperature was suitable for a fish of Elmo the Beta’s stature, my mother placed him back in the bowl and let him be.
Once again, Elmo the Beta laughed, loved, and lived life to the fullest.
…until the next morning, when life could not be lived any longer.
Elmo the Beta was pronounced dead sometime the next morning. The one who found him—my mother, or should we refer to her as the primary suspect?
Quickly the primary suspect flushed the fish, ran out to the nearest store, and bought a fish that was identical to Elmo the Beta: red.
No one would be able to tell the difference, not even the mother of Elmo the Beta: myself.
Fall of 2014, I returned to school with whom I thought was Elmo the Beta. For those sixteen weeks, I cleaned his bowl and fed him. When the semester came to a close, I brought him back home with me for the last three weeks of the year.
I lived, laughed, and dined with the culprit for three weeks, until finally it was too much to handle on a conscious.
…or maybe he just wanted a good laugh.
On the first day of 2015, early in the morning, my father confessed to that not being Elmo the Beta and threw
my mother the culprit under the bus.
Elmo the Beta had died two Falls before.
I never had a chance to say goodbye.
While the culprit and her husband blame Elmo the Beta’s initial death at being placed in clean water instead of the “L.A. Smog” (as the culprit puts it) he was used to being in, I know otherwise.
Elmo the Beta was murdered. It was a homicide and his own grandmother killed him.
Upon finding out about Elmo the Beta’s mysterious death, the new fish I called Elmo the Beta became Fabio the Beta, a name given by one of my friends with whom I share an apartment.
While I know Fabio the Beta and I will have many adventures (such as the time he almost died because my three friends/roommates and I freaked out over him falling on the counter), they will never compare to those of Elmo the Beta and mine.
*Cue montage of Elmo the Beta and I here, along with dramatic music*
Yes, I may be dramatic.
Yes, I may not care as much as I let on in this post.
Yes, I definitely did not notice the difference between the two fish.
But this is not about my insincerity.
No, this post is to show you why you never leave your pet home with your family when you embark on the journey known as college.
Elmo the Beta is not here today for a reason.
Not because the “LA Smog” killed him.
Not because of “shock”.
Not because he was old and betas usually do not live long.
my mother the culprit murdered him and tried to cover it up by replacing him (yes, I can acknowledge it was a sweet gesture, but I will only do it this once because then it ruins the feel of this post).
Elmo the Beta is not here today because he is doing bigger and better things. Now, Elmo the Beta is serving as a testimony, as
living proof dead proof (is that even a phrase?) a reason to keep your pet wherever you go.
Your college journey is not meant to be traveled alone, but with your beloved pet.
Rest In Peace,
Elmo the Beta
Spring 2012-Fall 2013
A good son…or daughter.
A good pet.
A better testimony.
Gone too soon.
…….And cut! That’s a wrap! Back to the “Trials and Troubles of This Average College Girl” this Sunday, January 11, 2015.
I’m just an average college girl with many stories; many words; many confessions.
These are just some of the confessions of an average college girl to average college girls.
…And there are many more to come.
Have a great week, Kay