A post about death

 Okay, I know what you're thinking. Why would you cry over something as trivial as a pet fish? Recently, my friend's father passed away— a kind of death like that, now that's something worth crying about, but I don't know. 
  The fish in that picture up there— his name is Tesla. He was our class pet in AP Physics, so, of course, my teacher named him after the cool scientist Nikola Tesla. I've never had a pet before, but I've always loved fish, so during 3rd period, I'd, in a sense, adopt Tesla. I'd carry his home (a giant beaker) to my desk. I liked watching him swim through the coil, and I declared myself responsible for cleaning out his water (because people in different periods tended to overfeed him, causing the detritus of uneaten to pile up on the beaker's floor which makes the water a lot less sanitary.) And, as weird as it sounds, this little betta fish was my friend. 
   But then finals week happened, and I stopped seeing Tesla every day. The week after, I went into physics class in the morning to play ping pong. Our teacher said the ping pong paddles had been hidden, so I went to find them. I walked over by the sink. I saw one empty giant beaker. This wasn't unusual since there were two giant beakers of about the same size in the classroom— one where Tesla lived and another that usually held fresh water that Tesla could be transferred to as soon as the other beaker got too dirty. Then a bit to the left, I saw another giant beaker. It was empty, too. The bronze metal coil lay cast aside by the sink. 
  "Where's Tesla?" I asked my physics teacher.
  "Gone." 
  I stared at him dumbfoundedly. "Gone?" I said, my mind in disbelief. Then it hit me. "Like Tea Cake gone?" My physics teacher didn't quite get the reference, but the empty beakers said it all. I'll miss you Tesla. You'll always be my favorite fish.