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Message: <blockquote data-quote="gtkisaru" data-source="post: 7109684" data-attributes="member: 68721">When I was seven, my family moved from suburban California to rural  Idaho.   In an effort to embrace Northern Idaho culture, my dad took me  fishing at a lake near our house.   I was really excited. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vocyQShJI/AAAAAAAACYw/iWSlhHNL_-A/s1600/fish.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vocyQShJI/AAAAAAAACYw/iWSlhHNL_-A/s320/fish.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> Mostly because I thought that I would get to keep the fish I caught as a  pet.  <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vop7Uge0I/AAAAAAAACY4/LRw8OG3NUaI/s1600/fish3.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vop7Uge0I/AAAAAAAACY4/LRw8OG3NUaI/s320/fish3.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> My dad spent all day showing me how to thread a worm and cast a line.  <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vpOjcrEnI/AAAAAAAACZA/nVffs-aTu7I/s1600/fish2.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vpOjcrEnI/AAAAAAAACZA/nVffs-aTu7I/s320/fish2.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> Every second, I expected to feel a pull on my hook and reel in my new  best friend.  It never happened.  <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vpjf9sYQI/AAAAAAAACZI/4FrsAqwiA5c/s1600/fish9.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vpjf9sYQI/AAAAAAAACZI/4FrsAqwiA5c/s320/fish9.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I was heartbroken.  Even though I never got to meet my fish friend, it  felt like he had been forcibly taken from me.  My hopes were crushed.   As my dad was desperately trying to console me, a kindly fisherman took  note and offered to let me have one of the fish he had in his bucket. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vqO2mKfZI/AAAAAAAACZQ/0PJ9aj_Y4wo/s1600/fish10.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vqO2mKfZI/AAAAAAAACZQ/0PJ9aj_Y4wo/s320/fish10.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I was ecstatic!  My mind immediately composed a vivid montage of all the  fun times I would have with my new friend. The fisherman set his bucket on the dock and let me pick out my fish.  I  chose the cutest fish I could find and lovingly transferred it to my  own bucket.   "Hi," I whispered; "My name is Allie.  I'm your new best  friend."   Once we got home, my dad went to take a nap  and I carried my fish's bucket out into our backyard.   I set the bucket  down and ran as fast as my excited little legs could carry me to fetch a  shovel.     <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vtWl3BJOI/AAAAAAAACZY/ePR7YTyXNFY/s1600/fish5.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vtWl3BJOI/AAAAAAAACZY/ePR7YTyXNFY/s320/fish5.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vwBKKwQWI/AAAAAAAACZo/bPlg1lEjoYc/s1600/fish6.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vwBKKwQWI/AAAAAAAACZo/bPlg1lEjoYc/s320/fish6.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vwHWkdZtI/AAAAAAAACZw/R5FP5Iu5jQs/s1600/fish8.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vwHWkdZtI/AAAAAAAACZw/R5FP5Iu5jQs/s320/fish8.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vwNEPDzmI/AAAAAAAACZ4/PRFg27GTo2s/s1600/fish7.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6vwNEPDzmI/AAAAAAAACZ4/PRFg27GTo2s/s320/fish7.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I set my friend free in his new home and watched him swim around for  awhile.  I felt so pleased with myself for transporting this humble  little fish from his old life of poverty and hardship to a new life with  his very own pond and all the bread pieces he could eat.  After making sure that my fish was comfortable and happy, I went inside  to make toys and furniture for him.  I glued toothpicks and popsicle  sticks together to form miniature chairs and tables.  My fish was going  to love his new home!  I was so excited for him.  An hour or so later, I proudly carried the things I made outside to give  to my fish.  <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v1dsf1CLI/AAAAAAAACaA/NYROEoEg1hI/s1600/fish21.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v1dsf1CLI/AAAAAAAACaA/NYROEoEg1hI/s320/fish21.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> As I got closer to the pond, I could already sense that there was  something wrong.  There were no happy splashing sounds.  I couldn't see  the water over the top of hole I'd dug.  I dropped the fish furniture I  had made and broke into a run.  When I reached the pond, I was horrified to discover that most of the  water had been absorbed into the ground.  My fish was lying on its side,  flopping around in about a half-inch of mud-water.  <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v3rhhMSQI/AAAAAAAACaI/wtPxHHeKTwU/s1600/fish4.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v3rhhMSQI/AAAAAAAACaI/wtPxHHeKTwU/s320/fish4.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> WHAT HAD I DONE????  I immediately got the hose and started spraying my  fish with a stream of cold water.  <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v4HClIdLI/AAAAAAAACaQ/Fp5rTBkPBHU/s1600/fish12.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v4HClIdLI/AAAAAAAACaQ/Fp5rTBkPBHU/s320/fish12.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v4Oy80PUI/AAAAAAAACaY/5iyNNf2R0lM/s1600/fish13.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v4Oy80PUI/AAAAAAAACaY/5iyNNf2R0lM/s320/fish13.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I filled up the hole and waited.  My fish floated belly-up in the murky  water.  Every now and then he would thrash around and try to turn  himself over unsuccessfully.  I tried to help him stay right-side up by  holding him in the correct orientation and then releasing him gently,  but he always flopped back over lifelessly.  It became clear that he  wasn't going to make it.  I knew what I had to do.  I went inside and got my mom's butcher knife.  <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v6IjkZQTI/AAAAAAAACag/-YSR1cDC6Ms/s1600/fish15.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v6IjkZQTI/AAAAAAAACag/-YSR1cDC6Ms/s320/fish15.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I didn't want my fish to suffer.  I had to be brave for him.  I had to  do the right thing and finish what I started.  I drug the fish over to  our brick patio and prepared to end its life as quickly and painlessly  as I could. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v6jRb-LxI/AAAAAAAACao/jZObqAlvUK4/s1600/fish14.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v6jRb-LxI/AAAAAAAACao/jZObqAlvUK4/s320/fish14.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I held the blade high over my head.  It glinted in the sunlight as I  tried to steady my nerves.   <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v7ggxEovI/AAAAAAAACaw/eOdodY2j3fY/s1600/fish16.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v7ggxEovI/AAAAAAAACaw/eOdodY2j3fY/s320/fish16.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I took a deep breath and brought the knife down as hard as I could. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v7xpnlbwI/AAAAAAAACa4/f60bQw3gz9U/s1600/fish18.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v7xpnlbwI/AAAAAAAACa4/f60bQw3gz9U/s320/fish18.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a>     I barely dented my fish.  It flopped around as urgently as a half-dead  fish can, as if to say "OHMYGODI'MBLEEDING!!!!!! WHAT THE F*CKING  F*CK ARE YOU DOING???? IF YOU'RE GOING TO DECAPITATE ME, DO IT!!!  KIIIIIIIIIILLLLL MEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" I began to frantically hack at it, over and over, like a berserk war  machine.    <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v9uOJ4TqI/AAAAAAAACbA/DjzEXtaUyKM/s1600/fish17.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v9uOJ4TqI/AAAAAAAACbA/DjzEXtaUyKM/s320/fish17.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v__PS7k_I/AAAAAAAACbY/eQ0ZTt_WM48/s1600/fish22.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v__PS7k_I/AAAAAAAACbY/eQ0ZTt_WM48/s320/fish22.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v_eUt-dCI/AAAAAAAACbQ/wIP8cDuhD_w/s1600/fish23.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6v_eUt-dCI/AAAAAAAACbQ/wIP8cDuhD_w/s320/fish23.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6wGHlGGbSI/AAAAAAAACbw/6f_UskF4kdA/s1600/fish19.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6wGHlGGbSI/AAAAAAAACbw/6f_UskF4kdA/s320/fish19.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> I couldn't kill it.  My pathetic 7-year-old muscles could not sever the  fish's head.  I needed help. I ran inside and woke up my dad.  Imagine, for a second, that you are peacefully slumbering after a nice  day of bonding with your young daughter - who you think is playing  peacefully out in the yard.  You are warm and comfortable and feeling  secure about your life.  And then you are abruptly woken up by this: <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6wBOi95mzI/AAAAAAAACbo/5rTZkqK5HTM/s1600/fish11.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6wBOi95mzI/AAAAAAAACbo/5rTZkqK5HTM/s400/fish11.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a> Upon discovering that his daughter was crying and covered in blood, my  dad became visibly distressed.  He asked me what was wrong and if I was  okay and where did all the blood come from? But all he could get out of  me were half-sentences interrupted by hyperventilation and random  screaming.  I was eventually able to drag him out to the patio where the fish was  still flopping around heroically, spattering blood all over our new  brickwork.  My dad told me to go inside.  From under the covers of my parent's bed, I could hear metal strike  brick.  Just once.  Then my dad came back inside and sat down on the bed  next to me.  He patted me on the head and asked me if I wanted fish  tacos for dinner.   <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6wI6-QNLoI/AAAAAAAACb4/j-1XEQwBOa4/s1600/fish24.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D_Z-D2tzi14/S6wI6-QNLoI/AAAAAAAACb4/j-1XEQwBOa4/s640/fish24.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a>Add + Reps if you enjoyed the story.</blockquote>

Verification: Dawasata paya keeyak thibeda?

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