THE ONLY TIME I LOST MY PREY

I have no friends. I can be social, just don’t bother my prey. As a matter of fact, if I were a human, I’d be considered a sociopath. My bite is deadly, and I don’t care about the blood. As a matter of fact, I love the smell of blood. I even love the way it tastes. I don’t care if you’re not bothering me. I bother you. During feeding time, the whole ocean around me colors itself red. I’m used to it. I’m probably as old as dirt, but I have a big belly to fill, so cut me break. I don’t expect you to imagine me second guessing my food. “It is what it is.” I’m mean, I’m big, I’m grey and that’s the way I like to keep it.

Now that that’s out of the way, how can I help? You evidently wanted to know something about me, so ask……………….. I don't like your question. No....No..... No.... No. I can’t go there. I won’t go there. I shouldn’t go there. Excuse me. What do you mean? You want me to admit my mistake, and you’ll give me one hundred free fish?

Well, in that case, ok. I’ll do it, but only this one time for you. It always has to be you who wants to hear the sob story. (Sigh) But Okay. Okay. Here it goes.

Once upon a time, where the sky was blue, the ocean was surprisingly blue around me, and I wanted to feel sort of blue because I WAS HUNGRY AND LONELY, I swam looking for food. (I like to be hungry and crowded with prey) I’m in the ocean for my swim-as I am everyday- and I see this nice sized shiny object flapping like a fish in the ocean. It’s not a fish though. Fish are my favorite. It immediately gets my attention because I don’t miss anything with my 20/20. My vision is perfect. I was gifted these pair of eyes and because of them, I'm lucky to have never missed a prey or a meal. But anyway…..this one particular day was slightly different. I mean I saw the sucker, flipping and flapping. It looked mighty tasty to me, and I was sure going to fill my belly. So, I kindly watched the sucker for a minute or so about one hundred feet back. It continued to flap it's flapper, glide and slide right out of my sharp teeth (within my imagination). I had to get this one. I had to feel alive again. A shark doesn’t live until they’ve caught their prey. Just like a cat has not lived unless he’s caught a mouse. It’s our direct point of sustenance. Fish for the shark. Mice for the cat.

So, I approach the flappy fin with my 31-mph limit, crashing into it with a bang and taking its whole, long, limp extension into my clamping jaws. The next thing I know, I heard a scream and saw the body of human. OOopppss… oh well, I thought. The human was locked into my jaws, the texture of warmth and goo filled my mouth, and although it was nasty, anything bloody was edible at this moment. I WAS HUNGRY. I immediately went in for the kill. I would have to shake and rip this human apart, for he was fighting. Don’t let him hit your nose, I thought as I continued to sink my teeth in and compartmentalize his leg bones. The screams were like music to my ears and with its vibration rattled a dance in my belly. Oh, what a thrill I was having. The only thing was that it was taking too long. If I wanted to fight for food, I would have fought my brother this morning over scary, running away, little, lost Nemo. My brother is a little more aggressive than I am, so I found it stupid to fight over that little itty-bitty fish when I have a reputation for finding the biggest ones of them all.

But back to this guy. I wasn’t making it easy for him, and this 6-foot male human wasn’t making it easy for me either. Can you believe the nerve of this fellow in my territorial grounds and got the nerve to be punching me so hard for dear life? He should have known better, now his guts are mine. As the fight spewed on, I daydreamed a lot. I had to do something to distract the taste in my mouth and those numbing punches over and over again. If I wasn’t a prick, I would have let him go. Hahahhaha. I really had my mind made up though. I was going to gobble him up and then go brag to my brother about the big kill, but he wasn’t giving in.

Why didn’t he just surrender? Why didn’t he give up? Fish are so simple. They don’t do this. Their precious little bodies just get swallowed up into hunger, where their only purpose for me, is to fill me. Their only line of defense is to swim, but this sucker persistently kicked and punched me several times until… whap! I turn with the human leg in my mouth to look to around, and I noticed I’m surrounded by those weird, ugly, friendly, “save a leg,” squealing dolphins.

I had to drop my prey instantly. They were all flapping the water and jumping up and down. You know……weirdo things. I was surrounded. There was nothing I could do. I even think one of those dolphins banged into me. I was startled and angry, but I knew I was no match for the dolphin gang. I can’t stand them. Why they want to come between me and the human, I don’t know, but I left him to be.

I went back home and bragged to my brother about the whole ordeal, except for the fact I missed dinner. I don’t know how my brother found out, but he knew. The damn human survived. There was a whole news ordeal about his survival, and my brother must of heard people on the water talking about it. Needless to say, I was clowned for a whole week. I got to give the human his props though. He didn’t give up putting up a mean fight the entire time. And let’s not forget the surrounding ethereal team coming to his aid. I didn’t know the dolphins were that close. I hadn’t seen them all day. Just when I wanted to eat, they appeared out of nowhere. They would feel some kind of way, if us shark gang came between them and their fish. Well, the human wasn’t a fish, but you know what I mean. And that was it. I lost.

So there you have it. I shared it. That was the first- and only-time prey met with my 99.99999999999999999999% fatal death rate jaws, and survived. Just don’t tell anyone. I’ll take my fish now.

This story, although made comical, is a very serious true story from the show “I Survived.”