Stuck. That’s all he ever was.

In his tank, the merman could only take in his surroundings as people gawked and stared at him. Children pounding on the glass, leading to countless headaches. He only ever memorized one face, one that frequently showed up. He had no clue who you were, or why you were there so frequently. You always had a different kid too, sometimes the same kid came.

You would give him this look of pity…of sadness. He hated it, which only grew his hate for you. At least…he assumed it was hate