a short story for children by Roger B Rueda
"Santi, go and put your new tilapia in your room," a caring mother ordered.
Santi, just a regular child from down the street, ran up to his room, carrying a plastic bag in his hand. The bag contained a fine-looking, whitish male tilapia from a close by fisheries college. The fish seemed distressed by all the sudden movement.
"OK, mum!" Santi cast off his new darling into the fish container.
"I'm going to call you Tiwi," Santi beamed and stared at his new favourite.
Although, Tiwi wasn't going anywhere; he was in the same place, staring back at his new owner with his small, yellowish eyes. Santi was getting appallingly uninterested with Tiwi.
"Come on Tiwi, do something! Do a trick, swim about!" The irritated boy cried out, running his fingers through his black hair in an aggravated way.
You see, Santi was very intolerant. He was all of six. He has dark hair, brown eyes and some freckles speckled on his face. He was a thin, little boy. After a few minutes of an insipid moment of staring at his fish, Tiwi, Santi sighed and left Tiwi alone in his container. Santi went outside to play with a couple of friends on the block from his school. After a few hours of playing football, Santi came back home.
"Hello Santi," his mother greeted him by the front entrance.
"Hey mum!" Santi greeted back, then running up his timber stairs to go and see his pet, Tiwi.
But still, Tiwi did nothing special for the annoyed, young boy. He still just swam there, as deadly as he could. Santi became goaded with Tiwi.
"Come on Tiwi, do something cool!" Santi shouted at his fish, but still Tiwi did nothing.
Santi growled and opened his fish tank. Santi grunted as he put his dirty finger in the tank, trying to touch the whitish-coloured tilapia. Santi lightly tapped the fish, forcing Tiwi to do something cool, but failed. Tiwi still did nothing. Santi put more force in his finger and tapped his fish a bit harder.
"Come on, Tiwi!"
Still, nothing. At last, the anger that was building within Santi, made Santi put a ton more force on the poor fish, hitting the tilapia quite hard with his finger. Tiwi the tilapia instantly died from the brutal force. Tiwi's unmoving body floated up to the surface of the container. Santi couldn't believe what he had done. This isn't the first time this happened.
This has happened far too many times. Now, as Santi flushed the tilapia down his toilet, Santi was thinking to himself, watching the tilapia go down the cylinder in sadness.
"I should be more unwearied."
Santi, just a regular child from down the street, ran up to his room, carrying a plastic bag in his hand. The bag contained a fine-looking, whitish male tilapia from a close by fisheries college. The fish seemed distressed by all the sudden movement.
"OK, mum!" Santi cast off his new darling into the fish container.
"I'm going to call you Tiwi," Santi beamed and stared at his new favourite.
Although, Tiwi wasn't going anywhere; he was in the same place, staring back at his new owner with his small, yellowish eyes. Santi was getting appallingly uninterested with Tiwi.
"Come on Tiwi, do something! Do a trick, swim about!" The irritated boy cried out, running his fingers through his black hair in an aggravated way.
You see, Santi was very intolerant. He was all of six. He has dark hair, brown eyes and some freckles speckled on his face. He was a thin, little boy. After a few minutes of an insipid moment of staring at his fish, Tiwi, Santi sighed and left Tiwi alone in his container. Santi went outside to play with a couple of friends on the block from his school. After a few hours of playing football, Santi came back home.
"Hello Santi," his mother greeted him by the front entrance.
"Hey mum!" Santi greeted back, then running up his timber stairs to go and see his pet, Tiwi.
But still, Tiwi did nothing special for the annoyed, young boy. He still just swam there, as deadly as he could. Santi became goaded with Tiwi.
"Come on Tiwi, do something cool!" Santi shouted at his fish, but still Tiwi did nothing.
Santi growled and opened his fish tank. Santi grunted as he put his dirty finger in the tank, trying to touch the whitish-coloured tilapia. Santi lightly tapped the fish, forcing Tiwi to do something cool, but failed. Tiwi still did nothing. Santi put more force in his finger and tapped his fish a bit harder.
"Come on, Tiwi!"
Still, nothing. At last, the anger that was building within Santi, made Santi put a ton more force on the poor fish, hitting the tilapia quite hard with his finger. Tiwi the tilapia instantly died from the brutal force. Tiwi's unmoving body floated up to the surface of the container. Santi couldn't believe what he had done. This isn't the first time this happened.
This has happened far too many times. Now, as Santi flushed the tilapia down his toilet, Santi was thinking to himself, watching the tilapia go down the cylinder in sadness.
"I should be more unwearied."
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