Youngjae awoke to find that the early morning hours of dawn had been shoved aside by the first rays of light. His mind came to terms with the weight in his heart even before he could make sense of the reason why he was laying on the cold bathroom floor. The events from yesterday sped through his brain until they slammed to a stop before the image of a certain purple-blue scaled fish lying dead on his bathtub floor.

Youngjae reached up and slid his hands through his hair. After what amounted to no more than a few seconds of trying to yank the strands from his scalp, he arched his back and let out a silent scream that pulled whatever little energy his body had left to give.

When one flood of tears had just begun to dry, the next came and washed over the old.

Jaebum smiling. Jaebum kissing him. Jaebum telling him how much he loved him. Why hadn't he done the same? Without wiping the snot from his nose, Youngjae sat up.

A ray of light caught on something in the corner of his peripheral. Momentarily disrupted from thoughts of Jaebum, Youngjae turned his attention to the edge of the tub. Positioned over a folded piece of paper was the three-starred earring Jaebum had said represented their familial status.

Youngjae's burst of laughter was quickly overtaken by a surge of strangled sobs. He carefully pulled the paper towards him and in taking the earring between his thumb and forefinger, unfolded the letter.

His heart sped up. The first line had been addressed to him. He brought the earring up close to his chest, took a deep breath in and plunged head-first into Jaebum's final words.

Dear Youngjae,

If you're reading this than I know you've reached me. I’m sorry that you had to find me like this. I knew for some time about my impending death and yet, I couldn't bring myself to tell you. I didn't want to tell you. At least, not until the very end. There's a reason why. But, first, I think I should say that every person has a story.

Will you hear mine?

The sea's inhabitants loathe humans. We hate everything that has to do with the surface—from the tales of towering buildings and gigantic roadways, to the stories of speeding boxes with wheels and luminescent cities that are as comparably bright as the stars above; nothing beyond the glimmering surface is of value to us. We could care less.

Throughout the sea, there are signs bearing warning to the cranes that gobble up our friends and to the hulking ships whose fishermen steal our brethren to feast upon at a later date; words of caution to never, under any circumstance, consume the evil man's plastic. The younger are especially willed to stay away from the shores. Humans are there and they will kill you for no other reason than to assert their status as the dominant species. Humans are despicable, vile creatures who only care about sustaining themselves. Humans are the bane of our existence.

They should all just die.

But I couldn't bring myself to think like this. I had read about the way humans loved—their innocence and their fight for life coupled into one. They do care about the Earth. There’s this story I remember vividly of a man who bought a strip of land by the sea. He opened the place up to anyone who was willing to learn about th