The Heinous Crimes of Vikki Miller

So, my mum and brother are away again, to Ireland, for the October week. Whenever they go they always assume that I will feed my wee brother's fish. The thing is, his fish don't slap around the house, making obnoxious noises or getting in my way (like the cat does). To be honest, the cat has to be annoying in order to get fed, attention, or the tap turned on.

So, needless to say, since they left on Friday I've not fed my wee brother's fish until today when I got a text message saying 'Have you been feeding Kris' fish.' The thing is, I never remember, but now that they've asked me, I'll remember.

Over the summer I kept forgetting and the number of my brother's fish depleted by over 50%.

Fish eat fish. Fish food flakes are pieces of dead dried fish, so when the fish get hungry they have a fish war, and the weakest become the meal.

When I went in to feed the fish tonight I was checking to see how many fish were there, I could only see two, seriously, two. I actually feel terrible. There might be more. On a closer inspection though I found a half of a fish floating at the top of the water. It actually made me so sad, and it made me realise that I do need to feed my wee brother's fish otherwise death, carnage and sad things happen.

I'm sorry half fish. I'm sorry that your fish friends ate your head because I forgot to feed you.