Phil the Pigeon was a happy pigeon. Each day, he would walk to school and meet with his friends. However, Phil had a big fatal flaw-all Phil talked about was himself. Phil didn’t realize it at the time, but he was a humongous narcissist.
He arrived at school one day, but his friends wouldn’t listen to his seemingly endless rants about his high IQ or his athleticism. They were so sick of it that they left the usual meeting spot and walked to school without him (he was always late). Once a lonely Phil arrived at school, he was not invited into the social circle. No one opened a space for him. He realized that he was a jerk, and he was not wanted in any other social circles. So he went and sat on the bleachers-alone. There was no one who wanted to play with him, so he began bringing books to school.
Over time, Phil got used to it, and it became practically incapable of talking with other pigeons. He could not keep regular conversations going without either interrupting birds or stuttering and making things awkward. He decided that he was just not a social pigeon, and that he was just different from other birds. He made the bleachers his sanctuary, and books were his getaway, a portal to a better world where any pigeon could be whatever they wished to be.
On one particularly noisy day out on the playground, some of the other pigeons were playing basketball. While he was basking in the glory of his book, a very hard, very large basketball hit him square in the beak. He squawked in pain, and looked up to see the culprit. When he glanced up, with tears in his eyes, he was met by the most beautiful pigeon he had ever seen. Well, she wasn’t exactly a looker. Her feathers were a mess, and her beak was crooked. But she carried a book, and she had a satchel with a notepad and a pencil tucked inside. She seemed like the perfect pigeon. But she yelled at him, “EW GET ME MY BASKETBALL BEFORE I POKE YOUR EYES OUT!” So, he quickly handed her the basketball and ran into the boys’ bathroom.
He was beginning to fall apart. He was so hated at school that even the teachers didn’t call on him. He was slowly branching off from the level of weird he had once been on to just a plain pariah. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. He suffered through History, and then English. Only one more class left after those two. The dreaded P. E.-Physical Education.
He was horrible at sports now. He used to be quite athletic and popular, but he just stopped trying in sports, and was pretty bad at all of the sports they played in P.E. Each day, he was teased by the jocks of his grade who always managed to shine through sports. He wished he was like them again, popular and talented. But that ego had been flushed down the toilet, replaced with a quiet, mousy pigeon that wouldn’t participate in anything. He was only good at one thing: reading. He could read book after book, sometimes finishing three in one day. He did not have anything near a social life, except he had made friends with the librarian because he visited the library so frequently.
YOU ARE READING
Phil the Pigeon
RandomA pigeon who has become an outcast tries to stand up for what he believes in. (Ok this story is kinda a joke, be warned)
