Keep Swimming

My hands were plastered, maybe even molded against this fluorescent fish tank. My fingers etched against the glass as I stared into the bright, flowy, squirming creators of the sea—how could anybody leave them all alone? I gulped down the breath I didn’t know I was holding in as my fingers grazed the roof of the fish tank. I’ve always been alone since Mama and Papa have left. I wondered how this fish would feel. How it would feel to be shoved underwater, drowning forever in front of an audience that practically snarls at you for being a fish. My eyes swiveled from left to right, left to right, left to—

A worker in a dark suit entered my line of sight, clearing his throat. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, and the indents of his rough appearance made me squirm. “Would you like to purchase this fish, Maam?” he looked at me with utter disgust, his jet black hair spreading loosely across his temple.

Just keep swimming.

I pinched my eyebrows together, no doubt leaving two indents between my brows. His dark brown eyes grazed my hijab, and suddenly everything around me disappeared. The muttering whispers behind me, gone. The crowds of people around the puppies in the corner of the shop, gone. The only thing I was left with was this man, probably nearly two times old as me, possibly in his thirties. My heart was pounding so fast. I was sure he could hear it. I clenched my jaw together, grinding my teeth together as I tried to focus back on the fish tank.

“Just keep swimming, fishies—I’m here for you. You don’t have to be alone anymore,” I whispered under my breath, my breath fogging up the glass as I stared at the glow fish. They were a beautiful, vibrant color under the light. Suddenly I was coming up with names, names to distract myself from the uncomforting gaze of the man who was mere inches away from me. I wanted to be alone. Please, please just leave—us alone. I almost swallowed my heart as I continued to draw my eyes towards the swimming fish. I knew I wanted to call the larger fish with the riot of hot pink Strawberry. The yellow one, my dad’s favorite color, I would name Sunshine. And the dark blue, the color of my t-shirt dress, would be Sky. I was grinning so intensely that my cheeks became red, and moving my cheeks to mumble to the fishes began to hurt.

I had nearly forgotten the thickening gaze of the man that stood beside me, his eyes still lurking over my hijab with immense distaste. I continued to stare at the fishes as I licked my lips nervously, counting to ten. I sucked in a breath, holding back tears as he continued to snarl. What part of me does he want to see? My hijab? The stereotypes that foam on his tongue? The fact that I want to free these fishes, give them a place to call home besides the hellhole of an aquarium? Why can’t—why can’t he just leave me alone like everyone else? I gulp down harshly, the bitterness of my lollipop from earlier, tears suddenly blurring my vision. This is how it feels like to be underwater, right? I close my eyes. It’s better that way. He doesn’t see you. You’re alone. He doesn’t see you, he doesn’t see you, he doesn’t know you’re here it’ll be better if you just step away and pretend you’re not there because nobody notices you at all—

“Maam?” He repeats, his breath was uncomfortably close. I could tell he was a few inches closer, trying to grasp the situation.

Maybe he didn’t have a problem seeing me, or perhaps he did—I didn’t know. Everything I knew was what I was used to, and what I was used to was being kept far, far away from people that talk to me, people I wanted to talk to were afraid of me… or maybe were afraid of what they didn’t care to know about me. I stepped back, my boots tracing the glossy floorboards as I sucked in a breath.

Just keep swimming.

I searched the area for a bag or something to get the fishes out of the aquarium without talking to the man in front of me. My fingers grasped onto the railing behind me, the metal rod feeling cool beneath my trembling fingers as I finally pushed the words out of my mouth, “I-I wa-wan-want them not to be alon-alone,” I admitted, holding in a breath.

He stared at me, a subtle smile inching its way across his face before he nodded like he understood everything I was trying to say without even hearing the words leave my lips. “Of course, I will retrieve a bag for them.” He hurried past me, cracking his knuckles, and for a moment, just a moment, I could have sworn he wasn’t afraid of me, maybe nervous but not afraid—he seemed more afraid of what I thought of him.

I stared back into the fish take, my reflection dull and shallow. My cheeks were plumped, as usual, but my face lacked color. I was pale as the snow outside. I continued to grasp onto the railing, holding back a handful of words I wanted to say to him, tell him I—he wasn’t alone, I was afraid of the world too—I was fearful of taking my advice and swimming because I thought nobody would help me up if I drowned.

Just keep swimming.

He guessed every single fish I wanted, and he guessed them right. For a moment, I stood there, wide-eyed, as I looked into the fish tank. The fishes never stopped swimming, not even when everyone around them looked at them like they were nothing more than dumbfounded sea creatures. They never stopped swimming despite the cast of heavy water above their fins, they never stopped swimming, and neither should I.