Therefore Sophie Suffered

The sound came the same way it went away the last time. Through me. Inside of my veins and to every cell of my brain. I could feel their agitation, I could feel my blood thickening. I could feel the cardiac turmoil as the walls were torn apart and everything mixed and venous. As no one was able to cure the chaos and put the horse to sleep, I had to hold myself tight as a man who puts his hands around an infuriated lion. I felt the rage. The rage despised me. I felt it inside of my very nerves and I could hear them crying and cringing and yelling. They wanted to break free. My nerves, they talked.

Inside of the spiral, the spheres went round and round. The pregnant seahorses swinged and danced in their peculiar motion while observing me indefectibly through the teal. My eyes were static, red as the blood dropping out of my fists. The bubbles stopped swinging towards the top of the aquarium and now were all splattered around the floor with the goldfish. He jumped and danced his waltz too. Sadly, it could not last for his fate was to asphyxiate as I watched, as silence consumed both him and I. There was no way I could have stood the unbearable sound of bubbles breaking up. Now I was left with the splattering sound of the agonizing fish.

Therefore, I stomped him. The high heel cut through the scales and made a squishy sound. But the hippocampus could still live. Because the pale goldfish was not as smart, or perhaps did not have as much importance for himself or an heir, he slowly struggled agitatedly around the tiny, shattered glass. As he suffered, the pregnant seahorses stared at me. Those salty bastards, the worthless imprisoned twisted starfishes. They knew. They knew I hated Sophie.

The End

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