The life and times of Timmy the fish

On my first day at university, I was nervous, I wanted people to like me, and be my friend. So I don’t know why, but I told them the story of Timmy the fish. I think they laughed. I’m not sure if it was out of pity or politeness. But they laughed. So here is the story of Timmy the fish.



Timmy was a gold fish that my grandparents had bought to occupy my young cousins when they came to stay. He was simply an innocent gold fish. He had no beef with any other fish. He was the only fish around these parts. He had a happy life. He swam all day, and was fed regularly. He was a hit. The best gold fish in this town. We all enjoyed Timmy’s company. So much so, that my Gran and Papa decided to get more fish. So Timmy could have more friends. So Timmy would not be so alone.


Shit was about to hit the metaphorical fan.

Timmy was not at all pleased with his new ‘pals’ (if you could call them that. Pfft, stupid new fish, they think they’re the best- but they are actually the worst, they’re not even gold fish. They are probably silver fish. The second class citizens of the fish world).

After a few days, the new fish started to disappear. My grandparents could simply not work out why. They hadn’t died. There was no trace of these new fish. Where had the new fish gone?!

Strangely, around this time, Timmy started to get beefier. No one wanted to confront Timmy. Who are we to judge? Maybe he’d been hitting the gym? Maybe he’d been doing a few more lengths of the tank. Get off his back.

However, the next week, all of the new fish had disappeared. No bodies were found. The situation was fishy. Timmy was looking shifty. I could see it, he was cracking under pressure of accusations from my Gran and Papa. “We think Timmy ate the new fish, He’s got massive, and we can’t find the other fish” Timmy had been found out. Timmy had grown around 3 times his normal size. Maybe he was bloated, maybe he had too much fish food that day… or maybe, just maybe he had eaten all the fish.

After the disappearance of the new fish, Timmy was kept upstairs. Apparently he scared my little cousins. He lived a lonely and desolate life after this. My uncle gave him to someone from work. He warned them, that Timmy was “mental”, he was not your average gold fish. I assumed, his new owner shrugged this off, but he doesn’t know the awful things that Timmy was accused of.

Did Timmy eat all the new fish? I don’t know. And I guess we’ll never know. Because gold fish can’t talk, so he will never be able to answer my questions. I guess some things are best left unknown. But he was a good fish. A kind fish. He was Timmy. He will never be replaced.