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WHAT THE FISH SAW - HANNAH YOU

Preface

      This is the story of a fish. This is the story of us. This story is made in the hope that we, as humans, will start to see what most of us blatantly have ignored for the past centuries. Perhaps, through a different perspective, through fresh eyes, we will start to open up to what impending doom we have brought on ourselves. The purpose of this story is not to rebuke, but to inspire. To innovate. I hope that this story will bring us together, and motivate us to prepare for a greater cause. After all, compared to all the other beauties of this world, we, humans, are only a speck of dust. Remember, the world does not revolve around us. We need the world, but the world doesn’t need us. We don’t deserve the bountiful resources that the world provides. We have disrupted the billions of species who have been working in harmony before we came along. If we want to be a part of the voice of nature, then we need to work harder so that we can go alongside it without shame.

***

      The fish did not know when the stream appeared. Nor did he know when all the waters started being tainted with whatever ghastly thing that was killing off the ocean life. But he did know the smell of fresh water. It was like a beautiful and alluring siren that called for him irresistibly. Tolerable water was nearly non-existent to fish like him these days. It was simply unbelievable that he came across such a body of water that was untouched by human society. As the fish stared at the glistening, pure stream, his mouth watered with longing. He did not know where the stream led. He did not know what kind of dangers awaited him at the end. But to the poor fish, clean water was a heavenly sight, so of course, without a single doubt, he happily swam to the start of the greatest adventure of his life.

      The fish had heard stories about a time where everything was perfect. Rumors drifted around the ocean about a large fish that sprouted water out of their back. Whispers about a small creature that looked like a majestic horse spread around. There were flat creatures with small eyes that lived in the bottom of the floor. The water was crystal clear, and nobody had to worry about food or being intoxicated. The fish sometimes tried to imagine what it would be like, but it seemed like a distant memory, so he just let it float away. What was more interesting to the fish was when an occasional group of people came to give vigil to the dying ocean. In his eyes, it was odd, because he knew that he wasn’t dead yet. He could still feel the weak but passionate pulse of the waters calling to him. Everyday as he watched the humans pass by, he desperately wished to tell them to not give up hope. If only the humans knew that the fate of his life, the whole ocean’s life, was reliant on them. Maybe then they would put more of an effort. But until then, he could only enjoy the small peace he found through the gift of the Mother. 

      The fish twirled about, blissfully swimming on the small stream. Oh, it was as though the water was cleansing his fins and taking away, away all the bottles and bottles of chemicals that the humans have buried him under all these years. It seemed that the fish was finally about to be in peace. He would at last be able to rest after all the years of chasing and running and fighting. But he spoke too soon.

      Suddenly, a wide gap in the water appeared, and the fish fell into the abyss. There was nothing the fish could do except to watch as he came closer and closer to his sudden death. Had he survived the unspeakable dangers of the present world only to be killed off by some erratic hole he was unfortunate enough to be sucked into? It was a bitter sight. The fish braced himself. 

      Again, to his great surprise, he was not hurt. He was not even scratched. Could it be? The fish looked about, expecting some sudden danger to appear. But he saw nothing of the kind. 

      On the contrary, he was… it was hard to describe what he was seeing. He was back in time. The time before pollution and mass extinctions went in place. 

      The fish didn’t know what to think. What had just happened? He was well adapted to changes, but he had never expected any of this to occur. What should he do? 

      The first thing the fish noticed was the change in his surroundings. He was born in a time where nature didn’t exist, or was at least hard to find. But now, as he stood with wide open eyes, he knew instantly that this was what a tree was. Its sturdy bark and plentiful green fins were almost too much for his eyes. He felt rather dirty and not belonging when he gazed at the pure stream, the beautiful chirping birds, and oh! The Tree. Of course, stories had been passed on about the wonders of nature. But he had never expected it to be like this. It was simply amazing.

      Suddenly, something brushed off his fins. He whirled about, tensing for a fight, but it was only another fish, calmly gazing at him as though he was a mildly interesting object and wanted to see how he acted like. 

      “Now, who are you?” asked the fish.

      He stared at the water. To him, it was rather unnerving and odd to see fresh water in front of his eyes. Natural water was only a distant story and a fantasy to him, but as he observed the graceful ripples dancing across the surface, he immediately knew that this was what pure water was. “The water’s clean.”

      The fish looked at him confusedly. “Well, of course, it is. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But he wasn’t listening. He had just caught the glints of the monster. It was a building. He could only stare in horror. He understood. This was when pollution began. And he could only stand and watch.

      He turned abruptly around to face the fish again. But he was gone. 

      What is this stream and why am I here?

      Before he could find the answer to that, the stream became a roaring river and swept him away. For a mere stream fish, this situation was way off the charts, and never, never had he imagined going through… this. He could not find a way out, so he stood still as he allowed the currents to take him to his next adventure.

      When he gathered his senses, he was in a different place. The nature and the stream that turned from the river was still there, but something was off. The air was less crisp and the water was less fresh. Then he saw it. It was a building, no multiple buildings lining up along the side of the stream, as if daring him to challenge its being there. To fish, buildings were a nameless, dangerous entity that lurked for them regardless of where they were. Every marine organism knew what they were, and they learned to fear them above anything else. Under the surface, they had the appearance of a messed-up and mottled grey pearl, but the animals all knew that they were much more than that. Those buildings had destroyed their way of life.

      The fish looked around desperately. He wanted to help, do something to make this better. He was back in time. Wasn’t that already a miracle? Couldn’t he do any more? But in his mind, he knew. He was only there to watch. A little fish like him couldn’t do the job. It was up to the humans. The agony was almost unbearable. 

      As he was brooding, a fish not unlike the one he saw before came across him. 

      “It’s you!” exclaimed the former, rather relieved that he wasn’t alone. 

      “Do I know you?” replied the latter. “No, I don’t think I do. What’s your name?”

      So this fish must be one of his descendants, the fish thought. “Well, my name is Jim. What’s yours?”

      “I’ve never heard of a Jim fish before. I’m Brook Trout.”

      Jim stood pondering about his next actions. He already knew that the humans would fail in saving the species. But how could a small fish like him do anything? He could barely manage to keep himself alive. Besides, he could not stay here forever. He glanced back at Brook Trout. Maybe he could warn him instead, and just maybe, he would listen.

      “Brook Trout, I’ve got something important to tell you. The survival of the world is in your hands.” 

      Brook Trout looked around confusedly. As he looked around his surroundings, seeing thousands of chirping birds, fresh green trees, and the sound of the alluring waves, he looked even more bewildered. “I don’t see anything wrong here. What do you need?”

      “I don’t know exactly when, but somewhere in the future, animals will start to disappear. When that happens, it’ll be too late. What year is this?”

      “1982.”

      Jim sighed in relief. “Then it’s not too late. You must stop this Brook Trout, you must!” At this point, Jim was ready to get on his flippers and beg for his help, but it seemed that he wasn’t doing enough. 

      Brook Trout looked skeptical. “I don’t know where you are from, but I thought you were odd from the start. Go bother someone else. I’m content where I am.”

      “But-”

      Brook Trout whisked away.

      Jim turned around in despair. Fish were not any different from humans after all. They all choose to be blissfully ignorant. 

      Before he could choose his next move, a bird appeared and plucked him out of the water. Strangely, this bird didn’t seem to be drawn to eating him. Instead, the bird placed Jim inside his spacious mouth filled with fresh water and drove him to his next scene- the year 2020. The bird placed him inside yet another stream and flew off.

      Where am I now? Jim wondered, but he was interrupted by yet another voice.

      “I believe in you.”

      Jim whirled around. He saw a small fish that was staring at him with those curious yet determined eyes, the ones not unlike… where had he seen those eyes before?

      He stared. “What?”

      “I know you. You’re the orange fish. We’ve made lots of progress because of you. In fact, our whole organization is thanks to you. You’ve saved the lives of millions of fish around the world.” 

      For a moment, Jim was utterly dumbfounded. Then, he let out an exuberant sound, the kind that filled up a depressing and empty room with pure joy. 

      “So Brook Trout did listen, did he?”

      “Yes. Brook Trout is my great grandfather. At first, he was skeptical of you, so he simply left. But when he came back to ask for more information, you were gone. And you left something behind. It was a trail of chemicals that were unknown to him, or any other fish in the community. Another fact that solidified your statement was that no one knew of his existence except him. So after a bit of contemplation, he decided to take the chances and set up the Ocean League. Sure enough, a few years later the water was tainted with the same chemicals as yours and we have been doing everything in our power to stop pollution since then. But there’s one thing everybody has been worried about. Ever since you left, pollution has been increasing by the moment and we have barely done anything significant to stop it. What if it’s too late? What if our efforts are going to waste?”

      Jim’s small heart pounded as it had never before. “No, you’re wrong. It’s not too late. You might be the last generation who can stop this. The year in my world is 2080, and there’s almost nothing left. If you want to save your world, you have to listen.”

      “I believe you,” the fish said, simply. “What do I do?”

      Jim started to answer, but the unwilling hands of time carried him away once more.

      When Jim opened his eyes again, the little fish was gone. He slowly pried his eyes open, and what he saw was simply unbelievable. It was definitely his time period, as the modern technology and humans were still there, but something was different. The air was bubbly and the river was teeming with life. Colorful birds, hundreds of bright orange fish like him, and the beautiful Tree were all gleaming, looking as if they had been waiting for him to return. Instead of the flimsy black and blue bruises of trash bins, there were snow-white recyclers that determined where the litter went. Instead of tall, dark, and gloomy buildings that towered over them, there were colorful one-story places that no longer sprouted ominous chemicals out. There were posters everywhere, that either promoted the Earth or banned litter on the ground. He could not believe his eyes. What had happened? How was everything so perfect?

      Suddenly, a torn and weathered newspaper caught his eye. It said:

      “Today in Centersville, a miracle seems to have occurred. All the fish in this particular lake have grouped together to protest against climate change. The pedestrians couldn’t believe their eyes when the fish reenacted a scene of multiple buildings being taken down. These critters have seemed to have created the biggest mass of fish seen in multiple decades. Thousands of people across this district have joined to watch this spectacular sighting, and billions of people around the world have been inspired to listen to the small creature’s voice. Even world leaders have grouped together to get to the bottom of this incredible mystery. It seems that things are finally going green…”

      In the middle of the newspaper, there was a small picture that portrayed the image of Brook Trout’s descendant fiercely leading the crowd, looking like a true leader. 

      Jim smiled. Maybe fish aren't so blissfully ignorant after all. A small action could lead to millions of possibilities, just as a small seed can bloom into a beautiful valley.

***

      On the horizon, the ocean glistened like a diamond, looking finally at peace. The sun’s reflection looked like stars on the surface of the waters, but it gleamed a thousand times brighter than the ones up in the sky. The ocean was the Mother. And the Mother had lived to see its little ones grow, some small and some large but each and every one infinitely important. Then her gaze shifted to the humans. They walked around, laughing, eating and playing. Her eyes turned stern but thankful. They had almost destroyed her very being. But in the end, they brought themselves back and learned to love the ocean. After all, they were also her children. She gently caressed them with a puff of mist, and whispered in their ear,

      "Thank you."

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