Diary of a Lonely Guppy

September 11 (Later)

Well, no such luck.

But she did make some good progress in her story. At least, the "framework". She's decided that Olivia's father doesn't like her dating Kieran, and he's also "terminally ill", whatever that means.

Then she decided that the dad has to die, and his last wish is that Olivia "stays away from that dirty street boy". So Olivia is torn between her love for Kieran and her father's dying wish.

Okay. I was good with this story until it got to the dying part.

Haven't I been through enough? Why does the quiet one have to make part of the story vanish and die off? It's bad enough that Nike's gone. Now Olivia's father is gone, too, and I haven't even met him yet.

But, from what the quiet one was saying, it sounds like Olivia's father is a bad guy. After all, the whole thing is how Kieran and Olivia are breaking down barriers, and being "together" no matter what. If Olivia's father is against that, then he probably deserves to die.

Not like Nike. Nike didn't deserve it.

I wish she was here. Maybe then she'd tell me why she jumped. If I could just know why I would feel much better. Because what if it's MY fault? What if she jumped because she couldn't tolerate me?

I remember last year. Last year was our first year in the crazy room, and we were both a little scared. But on the first day with kids, the crazy lady wrote a word on the whiteboard at the front of the room.

LABYRINTHINE.

Underneath it, she wrote Twisting and turning.

"Your journey might be twisty," she'd said. "You might feel lost or scared when it takes a sudden turn, or when you don't know what lays around a bend. But that's okay, because, like a labyrinth, all paths lead to the middle. The only way to get lost is to stray from the path. Keep moving forward."

That's such a nice word. Labyrinthine. Twisting and turning.

Nike liked it, too.

Last year, the crazy lady put up new words every week. She's not doing that this year. That's too bad. It would have been nice to see some new word every week, to remind me that new things will come. Maybe someday the crazy lady will put a word on the board, but I doubt she'll remember. She has the attention span of a goldfish.

Believe me, I know goldfish. They're impossible to talk to. They get bored and change the subject every five seconds. They can't focus on anything longer than five seconds.

Nike wasn't like that. Nike could talk to goldfish for hours, and somehow keep them on track. I don't know how she did it. I guess I never will.

The quiet one also likes goldfish. She said she has five at home. Their names are Goldie, McNugget, Sasha, Coolie and Mack. I like being called Reebok better. I would hate to be called Mack.

But I think the quiet one likes guppies better than goldfish. After all, she wants me to help write her story. I don't think Mack gets to do that.

I wish Nike were here. She'd love the quiet one.

But the quiet one didn't come to the tank until Nike jumped.

So, in a way, was...

No.

Did they plan this?

No. No, no, no.

I don't believe that the quiet one would help Nike. And they couldn't have planned anything without me knowing about it. After all, Nike was in the same tank I was. She couldn't have had secret conversations with the quiet one without me overhearing at least part of it.

Well, that's a relief.

But something about the quiet one seems... off. I don't know what it is, but something seems wrong. It might just be that I'm a little, well, out of it. After all, my only friend in the world just died. Obviously, I'm going to be a bit out of sorts.

That doesn't change the fact that the quiet one is weird. I wouldn't say she's my friend. More like an acquaintance.

Nike taught me that word. It means "somebody you know, but not well". It's like the space between stranger and friend.

Anyway, the quiet one doesn't quite fill the hole Nike left in my life. Almost, but not quite. I don't think that hole will ever go away. It's like Nike tore part of me away and kept it when she jumped. A big, important part of me that really shouldn't be torn out and kept.

But what does Nike care? She just jumped right out of the tank and took part of me with her. Now I'm just really mad at her.

I don't think I'll ever feel whole again.

Sometimes, it feels like the whole world is against me. Everybody, everything... even Nike. Which is very unfair, because I'm just a vulnerable little guppy in a tank in the crazy room. The world is much bigger and more experienced than me. All I have to defend myself with is a tiny diary, an even tinier writing stick and all the stones at the bottom of the tank.

Nike would know how to defend me.

But Nike is dead.