When you are a kid everything is different.
And damn it was all good, or maybe that's what I thought or what it was.
And I knew there was a kid, yep,and he enjoyed to go out to the garden and play all the afternoon.
Her mother loved him so much, so did his brothers, he did love them too, all so perfect or that’s what he thought.
His toys were always scattered all over the yard, just because he and his little brother took hours to set the scenery, to a play they never played, cause then it came rain, or the noon, or boring spirits, to screw all that fun.
And what ridiculous games they invented, pretending they were some kind of fighters. "Warrior Kittens" used to call themselves, and so funny game that it got to its 3rd version.
They loved animals, they always did, but mother didn't. She used to give away the little chicken they bought on the schools family day (used to be called "Kermesse") or that's what they thought, cause few days after, they (and I mean the three brothers) didn't knew they were eating it. They were just to innocent to know that. Oh that smart rooster, will never be forgotten. When used to knock the door with his beak, 'cause he was just hungry.
Never mind the little birds, those Australian ones, that fly in huge flocks all over the country. Yeah, they were their fascination, and used to let them free on the garden (with the feathers of their wings cut of course). And there were they, climbing up the rose bushes or the or the fruit trees, singing happily, till one afternoon... Having a delicious lunch, that afternoon after school, the mother and their sons heard a weird and strange sound, some kind of crying. The kids wondered if they could go outside to find out where it came from, but she didn't let them. Hours passed, and the crying stopped.
The next morning, on Saturday, when they were just about to go to their English classes (as their first language was Spanish), the middle brother say something that stunned him, and then his brothers: there it was, one of the birds, on the ground but not moving,
tense, with stretched paws, and eyes closed. Yes, the crying was of one of the birds they loved so much. And even dead, his beautiful green plumage could be seen. When he took the little bird, so little that it could fit on his little kid hands, it was cold and still. It was buried that afternoon, after they returned from the English school... That was the first time the kid felt pain on his heart, pain that's worth it...
(it will continue...
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