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The neon aquarium gravel is a direct portal to memories of Reese's childhood.
Kaleidoscopic pebbles of blue, green, and orange sit idly on the bottom of her little brother's fish tank. They remind her of being a kid and how her sole responsibility at night was to feed her two goldfish she won in a ring toss game at the county fair. Sunset and Rocky were their names.
She envies the weightless joy of youth that younger siblings feel. To be that innocent age again, the only worry being the thought of accidentally tipping the fish food container too much and dropping flakes of earthworm and vitamin confetti onto the useless pets.
It didn't mean much until it meant everything.
Reese, at twenty-two years old, is just a girl swimming around in the metaphorical fishbowl most days, even when it turned from a sphere into a rectangular prism over the years of her fleeting adolescence. When it was moved out of her room once she became an adult, she tried to catch and keep any wave of purpose in the water. It was to no avail since the obvious point is that there are no waves in a fishbowl, only stagnant water that doesn't change unless someone makes an effort to. The handbook for navigating adulthood was never given to her, needless to say. Change happens everywhere around her, but she stands and waits in the middle, sticking to her comfort zone of antisocial tendencies.
It used to be harmless until it wasn't.
She currently stands in front of the glass, watching the glow-in-the-dark anemone swiftly move in the murky water. If she tries hard enough, she can pretend that she's underwater with the calico fish. She can hide herself in the soft limbs like at the beginning of Finding Nemo. It's quite simple to do with enough practice. It would take less than a minute to drown out the noise of her brother playing a video game and the TV turned up loud in the living room where her grandmother spends most of her time.
It was fun until it became a habit.
In the reflection, Reese can see her hair still braided and clipped up from the night before like a lunatic cartoon character. She always looks forward to waking up in the morning and undoing the twisted strands, letting the soft and subtle curls fall over her shoulders. She prefers her hair frizzy instead of straight, like how it is naturally. The volume hides her face better.
The lighter stripes of her brown silk pajamas glow fluorescently from the decorative luminosity surrounding her. She should probably take her clips out and change into something nicer since it's already the afternoon. She should also listen to some music to give her brain a break.
"Nuna, your phone is playing a pretty song."
Pause. She can continue later.
Her brother's voice sounds drowned out in the background, almost like she's underwater. Reese emerges above the surface and snaps out of her aquatic trance, shifting her gaze to see Rowan lifting one side of his headphones and giving her an impatient look. The melodic chime of her ringtone becomes clearer now that her ears aren't clogged with dissociative imagination.
