# The journal of Chaucer.



## Oskar and Chaucer (Feb 19, 2014)

February 18, 2014

One of my captors, an oddly dressed man wearing a bow-tie and suspenders has taken my tiny prison to the jail. He appears to be exchanging some sort of paper item for me. It seems odd that these things will trade a living thing for little pieces of paper. What meaning could a slip of paper hold that it is worth the life of someone else? 

I can still see my brothers, all in their own tiny cells. They sit, looking at me with a knowing gaze in their eyes. We all have heard the stories of what happens to one of us that leaves this wretched prison. Forced fighting, eaten by giants, chased by Tigers that have barbs on them, until you stop and allow your suffering to end.

I fear for the worst. 

February 18 addendum. 

My cage is floating in a larger cage. I can see plants and hills and rock, all on the other side of my walls. My cell appears to be getting warmer from the outside temperature, a welcome relief to this hell I am stuck in. 

There are creatures here. Small, translucent beings that scuttle along the blackened bottom. They seem to not be afraid of their surroundings, and are not overcrowding each other like the other beings I have seen at my former prison. They seem genuinely.... happy.

Despite my attempts to escape, I can not brake free. The cell is too well made. Why would anyone torture me with such a view? Is this some punishment for sins i have committed? 

The bow-tied one is approaching. I will attempt to free myself when he approaches. Perhaps he will let me stay if i can prove myself and escape.

February 18 Addendum II

I have escaped into the larger room. In a valiant push, just as the bow-tied one grabbed the top of my cell, I pushed against the top of my cell and it gave way! It appears as though he has not seen my escape, so i must hide for now. Perhaps in time he will allow me to stay in this tank. But for now, i will hide when he appears.

I do not know if these creatures I am with can communicate as I do. All attempts at discussion have failed. They seem to behave in no standard pattern. Some swim nearly continuously, others are foraging the bottom, looking for the scraps of previous meals. 

I am tired now, and will rest on the leaf at the back of this plant. 

 Perhaps, I will be safe after all.


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## summersea (Jul 26, 2013)

Can't wait to hear more! :-D


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## BettaLover1313 (Apr 15, 2013)

Can't wait to read more!


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## Oskar and Chaucer (Feb 19, 2014)

*February 19*

I have discovered that I'm not alone in this predicament. It appears that there is another Betta in a tank next to mine. I have tried to initiate the standard Dance greeting by flaring my gills and sparing against the glass. However, it did not initiate the regular response. He simply looked at me through the glass. I fear he may be mentally incompetent.

The crustaceans in the tank continue to shamble around aimlessly. I do not understand how they can swim around for hours on end and then just sit on the ground eating what’s left of MY food. It is interesting to see their stomach turn red with the color of my food. 

The interesting thing is that my new captor has fed me rather well. I was given something that he said was a “Bloodworm.” I have never tasted anything like this before. I sincerely hope that my daily meals will be made up of these delightful treats.


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## Oskar and Chaucer (Feb 19, 2014)

Bow-Tie Man returned today. He sat in front of my tank and began to talk to me. This is not an unusual occurrence. He has many times talked to my tank and the fellow mates in the tank. Specifically when i chased the shrimp around the tank. We were simply playing chase. nothing more. 

But today he was sad. He wasn't commenting on my fins (which i have started to display when he walks near, because he seems to enjoy the display. I am curious about the implications of this) He wasn't discussing the growth of the shrimp in the area. He was talking about my brothers.

It appears that there are more prisons than the one i was stored in before my move. There is a place called "My-hers" where more of my compatriots were stored. They were trapped in their own tiny cages as i was before. Their water was browning and he said that it started to smell. Their fins were starting to rot. They were lying on the gravel in their filth. 

His head was bowed down, looking at the bookshelf beneath my own cage. 
He didn't like the torture of my people in these tiny cages. He wanted to help them somehow. He wanted to save the men left behind. Like i was. 

Is that why he picked me?


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