The Bird

A nonfiction narrative that I made while I was sick this week, with salmonella. Being sick made me do a lot of thinking, while lying in bed alone for hours on end.

     I held it in my hands. The bird was dead.

     I had never seen something so small, but so perfect--he just stepped on it. That kid's boot came down faster than lightning can strike, onto this, before it could take flight (no pun intended).

     Wait it moved! It wasn't dead. I saw a twitch of life inside this little thing. I ran to a restroom for some water, and began to rub the blood off. I could see the bone coming from it's tender little ribs. It was such a subtle thing, one in a million, but it was fleeting away.

     What the hell is that black thing on my arm, and it's moving so fast. There were dozens on my hand. Why is the bird's wound moving so much, like a blur in a photograph? Oh My God it's covered in ants. They got to the bird before I did.

     Drenching it in water, a river of black ebbed and flowed into the drain, like a stream of corruption. I was more pissed at the ants for jumpin' its bones than I was at the fat little kid that stomped on it. Finally just a little bit of movement in its eyes. Then a perfect little squeak that faded into an ugly sound of a half squeak, like a bell stuffed with handkerchiefs.

     Buddy drove us to the vet. The doors were automatic, but definitely not on my side--couldn't get in. An old witch came out. Who cares. The vet was able to save it. Weeks went by, the bird would never fly again, but she became an office pet, one cherished by everyone in it.

     I went back a month after school started which was longer than I anticipated waiting to visit her. It had been another since I brought the little twirp in.

     "Where's Penny?" I asked the office attendant.

     "Oh, you must be the one that saved her... she's dead."

     "How?"

     "That lady that just walked out, her cat got out during an exam and we found it too late." She had no empathy. "Sorry."

     Last week I saw a little nest of birds chirping for food. Their mom was flat on the floor. I finished my walk then had duck for dinner. It was good.

Author's Note

I want you all to remember something that changed your perspectives. That event that hardened you to the world, or softened you up to it...

Reviews

[Cruz Niq]

Ah yes, empathy is both learned and unlearned. This is a short and sweet representation of that process. It does not need to be romanticized.
For me, I had to learn empathy again during my high school years. I was at this stage where people outside of my immediate family of four did not matter to me in the least. I wouldn't purposely hurt anyone, but I wasn't too kind either. Consequences of my words and actions weren't even a thought until I remembered how much affect words could have. Honesty is like communism. It looks great on paper, awesome in theory and should work for everyone. But once it's implemented, you notice how much everything begins to unravel. It is not for everyone. You realize that you can not have only honesty, but sympathy, thoughtfulness....

[Double T]

This is a great narrative :)

[Mr_M]

Perspective is a powerful thing. I thought it was clever and witty. Irony is the biggest killer. I think you can make it longer, regardless I really enjoyed the story.

[Paper Forks]

The story was a little hard to follow. Pacing was a little choppy. A thorough rewrite would do wonders to this piece.

[MeghanA]

it's so sad. why did the birdie have to die? isssss sad. but I liked the story. it was good

[MoriartyMesa]

Don't take no offense. I got the over all theme and that strange thing we call Empathy. But you sort of jumped around a bit, there were moments that this could have been stretched that you might have missed. But than again I am also on my third Screwdriver and might be missing something.


I liked this, but it could be a bit longer. Just for effect.

[Mr. Box]

Nice one, I can exactly see the irony you're trying to deliver with this story. This is very good, thanks for sharing.

[A Glow in the Pit of My..]

Interesting read, I could relate in a few ways. And its true,... every event affects you however small. You continue to harden or soften or somewhere in between. I go through waves of each and its a cycle I cant seem to put an end to. I rescue animals... but I am also fascinated by anatomy and taxidermy. Now I'm rambling... The ending actually shocked me a little, but it made perfect sense.

[BAlanMorgan]

I wanted an end that made you continue to think about what just entered into your mind. I wanted the ending that made one go "did I really read this?" and I hope this worked.

[A Glow in the Pit of My Soul]

yup! it worked! haha

[Cool Girl]

Wonderful story:) i absolutely love the beginning! Amazing job. You are very talented:)

[BAlanMorgan]

I was trying to get to the point. I struggle with back story before the story begins, so I wanted the first line to be the most enticing aspect of the story so i'm glad it worked