I Think My Betta Wants to Kill Me

Dear J,

I’m sorry that I haven’t written in a long time. Life got hectic after that last post. It’s actually crazy how quickly it moved. I met some new people, went through some stuff with them, and went through a lot of stuff on my own in just these past three months. I can’t remember everything that happened right now but if any of the experiences come up later I’ll talk about them. I just wanted to write you today so that if I turned up missing or dead in the near future, you would know why.

Secret Santa Satan

It all started a couple weeks before Christmas. In our office, we play Secret Santa and if for some reason you don’t know what that is, it’s where you get assigned a person in the office to give presents to for a week but you can’t tell them you’re the one giving them presents until the week is up. I gave my person a coffee mug and some fuzzy socks. I tried to keep my identity a secret but she knew it was me.

I, on the other hand, had absolutely no idea who my Secret Santa was. On the first day, I received nothing. I sat at my desk empty-handed while everyone else enjoyed the presents their Santas had dropped off throughout the day. It was much of the same story on the second day. By now I was started to get agitated. Had my Secret Santa forgotten about me?

Special Delivery

Finally, on the third day a coworker walked up to me holding a large back with Charlie Brown and Snoopy riding a sled on the front of it. “Special delivery from Santa Claus” he said. I was so excited I tore into the bag without thinking twice. My hand gripped what felt like a small cup. I pulled it out of the bag without a second thought but what I held should not have been handled to quickly and carelessly. A splash of water covered my hand and I looked in disbelief as I realized I had just pulled a betta fish out of my bag.

He was sleek and red and very angry. I loved him. I sent a mass email to everyone in the office asking for possible names. We ended up having five names to choose from: Rocky, Rudolph, Bush (RIP George HW), Nicholas, and The Real Swim Shady.

The Real Swim Shady won by a landslide.

Will the Real Swim Shady Please Stand Up?

I don’t think Shady likes me. It seems like every time I look at him, he’s flared up and staring at me. He’s calmed down some since he’s realized that I’m the one who gives him food but I still think he hates me. I think he wants me dead. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him make a throat-slashing gesture with his fins but I can’t be 100% sure. He’s just lurking in his tank waiting for me to slip up so he can take me out. He just sits and stares at me. He’s doing it right now! I hope he can’t read what I’m typing. If he can, then I’m dead for sure. If he can, then I guess this is goodbye.

I’ll miss you.


Follow me: @DoHpodcast and @JestonTexeira

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