When I was in high school, the junior class was responsible each year for hosting a banquet for the senior class. It was the Christian school equivalent of a prom; instead of dancing, we were subjected to a church service, complete with a boring preacher and hymns. The only fun part about it was eating a nice meal and being able to dress up in formalwear.

The year I was a junior, our class decided to build a huge tent in the gym out of cheap gauzy fabric (it may have even been paper of some sort-- memory fails me). The final effect was interesting, if not beautiful, and we elaborated the decorations with plants and columns and confetti (an interesting side note-- my confetti collection has its roots in this event: I was responsible for spreading confetti on the dinner tables, and inadvertently stuck a bag of confetti in my coat pocket. I forgot I had it until I found it a few days later. By then, the banquet was over, so I was the proud owner of my first confetti.). As a final addition to the decorations, we bought a black plastic fish pond and filled it with cheap goldfish from Wal-Mart.

The evening wasn't extremely memorable; I had no date (even though I had wished so hard that my crush would ask me-- never mind the fact that he had a girlfriend) and I think the steak was tough. The speaker was a local TV personality who was also supposed to be a Christian (we went to great lengths to get a non-pastor approved), but while he was speaking he admitted to condoning homosexuality and therefore was never invited back. The next year we were subjected to a preacher who used a sock puppet named Rufus-- I think it was supposed to be punishment of some sort.

When it was all over, we were left with piles of leftover tent material, gold star confetti, and a pond full of fish. Out of the kindness of my heart, and because no one else would take them, I adopted the fish. There must have been 15 of them.

My experience with fish pre-banquet amounted to two goldfish my mom had kept for 15 years. I was not used to fish carnage. My experience post-banquet included nine dead fish, which succumbed within my first few days of ownership. I thought at first that I was a person incapable of something as simple as looking after goldfish; I was relieved when I discovered that the fish had been exposed to chlorinated city water that had not been treated when they inhabited their fish pond at the banquet.

With more than half of my fleet decimated, I decided to let the fish take care of themselves. I took the survivors and set them free in the pond in our backyard. I gave them not another thought.

It must have been six months later when I was throwing bread to the fish in the pond that I saw him. A large white and gold fish, scrambling for food with the dull grey-colored fish. It was a moment of triumph, a moment of glory. I didn't kill all of the fish.