Goldfish out of fishbowl

The orange goldfish, which were scattered all over the yellow floor, are vivid in my memory. Did I think that living even at a young age was a goldfish-like desperation that lost its fishbowls and had no water?

I am remembered for my third year in middle school, April. I have an older sister who has a big age difference. It was the wedding day of her, who just graduated from college.

Two of my aunts, who thought they had gone home after attending the wedding, stormed the door of my house. The mother, who had always been ill, raised herself up, attended the wedding of her eldest daughter and returned and about to lie down.

"Its no time to lie down." they said, "Let's goes somewhere." I didn't want to get involved in the extreme auntie's business. “Now you're the oldest daughter, so you have to take the lead," they said.

When something happens to my house, my excited aunts were extremely excited as if it was their job. They dragged my mom and pushed me to get to an apartment complex. Unlike my mother, healthy and fiery aunts go to work almost every day at my house and took care of my sick mother. They lived with all their heart and soul as if they would give their life to my mother.

It was not a big apartment complex. They pushed my back to make me ring the bell from the apartment that was on the right side of the first floor. I pressed the bell one by one. When I rang the bell of sixth apartment, a skinny, good-looking woman looked out and asked, "Who are you?" The moment I looked inside the living room, I heard the sound of "Who is it?" It was my father's voice.

I hesitated in embarrassment and said, "Here," and the aunts pushed the woman in. My father got up in a tangle. I stepped back. When my mom saw my father, she gave up and sat down in a chair. "What are you?” My aunts pushed the woman along. My father tried to say something when he looked at me and went out.

The skinny woman said, "What are the third parties doing?" "A third party?" Little aunt grabbed the woman's hair. Big aunt started to beat her up. The fishbowl next to them was broken off. Like the waves, goldfish were swept out of the fishbowl in a moment.

The goldfish scattered among the cracks of the broken glass and began to flutter as hard as could. I stood in a daze, looking where the running goldfish splashed. The goldfish ran around that they would live under their feet. I found an empty bowl and put them one by one. By any chance, are there any goldfishes under the furniture? How many goldfish were there? I was standing in the hallway of the apartment with a bowl.

The lady next door who was watching the fight dragged me into her apartment. And she said, "It's pitiful to be child." I began to cry, counting goldfish in the same boat with me