Writer's Cramp Entry 03/06: The Beast

I don’t tend to fish much. I find it dull and a massive waste of time; just sitting on a river bank with your line in the water, waiting. Minutes, usually hours later, you may get a bite and, if you are lucky, reel in a big one. And you may ask, what do you do with this fish that you have been waiting for. This fish that has tested your patience. This damn fish. You throw it back in the water, rendering the last four hours of life a massive waste of time. This is what I believed until, I caught something that I couldn’t throw back.
The only reason I was fishing that day was due to childish impulsiveness. I had watched a show about a fisherman and his grand adventurers and I, embarrassing as it sounds, fancied a go. This show had seemingly relieved me of my prior memories of fishing. I had only ever been twice; once with my father, within which time I fell asleep and once with a former girlfriend, who I knocked into the river. Not a sport I connected with but nevertheless, I borrow my fathers gear and drove down to the nearest lake. It had been barely ten minutes before I got a bite and I reeled it in. It was heavy, and it was quite a fight to reel it in. One final pull and the fish leapt into the air and into my net. Well, at least I thought it was a fish.
I had caught a large human-like creature. With a tail. Some may call it a mermaid, but I could not bring myself to do so. The creature was hideous. It looked at me and gurned. I must admit, I screamed like a girl. I attempted to release the beast from its net when it jumps onto land and begins to slither its way towards me. For the second time, I screamed. I just wanted to run away, get in the car, go home and change my underwear. The beast had other ideas. It was quick and it jumped me; knocking me to the ground. I was toast.
The beast, however, didn’t want me dead. It snuggled me; rubbing its face up against mine. This may sound cute to some people, but I assure you, it was terrifying. The creature clung to me like a fat man to a cheeseburger and it was not going to let go. I knew I would have to pull a blinder to get out of this one. Should I kill it? Should I knock it back into the lake. Should I submit and become the beast’s toy? No, I chose to invite it home for tea.
I packed the car and laid the beast on the back seat. It was an odd journey; the beast making noise along to the radio. It particularly liked the music of Sam Smith; probably as the screeching sounds he calls singing is similar to the beast’s own language. We arrived home and I helped the beast out of the car and into my small flat. I must admit, the neighbours were alarmed and thought I had gone barmy. They were probably right. I enter my flat with the beast and lay her down on the ground. This is where my plan would reach fruition. I grab a knife from the kitchen and approach the beast- ready to pounce. She was going to be dinner; not a guest.
I am a coward. A freak. A loser. I did not stab the beast. I dropped the knife and slumped to the floor. The reason, the beast had already fallen asleep, clinging to a photo of myself I egotistically keep in the living area. I couldn’t kill such a creature that trusted me so much. I had found myself a new pet. The lesson here is: Don’t go fishing. You never know what you are going to end up with.