Merry Happy

Chapter Sixteen

'The bird was small, tiny, with yellow at the end of it's beautiful blue wings.

It's black beady eyes darted back and forth, searching the little boys face as he stared up at the bird in the tree.

The little boy smiled, thinking of how he had always loved birds. He loved the way they looked, small and delicate, but could fly as high as they wanted, go wherever they pleased.

The boy watched in astonishment as the bird hopped from branch to branch before spreading its small but strong wings, only to drop on the fence closer to the boy.

The boy giggled in delight.

The bird was so beautiful, so careless, that it didn't hesitate when it moved even closer to the little boy.

I want him to stay, the little boy thought in glee. I want him to be mine.

And when the bird came a bit closer, the little boy stuck out his hand, crossing his other fingers behind his back in hopes that the bird would love him enough to trust him.

And it did. The boy held back a giggle of joy as the little bird flew up and perched delicately in the boys small hand, its small head cocking to the side.

The boy was so happy that the bird trusted him, so happy that the bird loved him, that when he smiled down at those beady black eyes, he didn't hesitate another second before closing his hands over the bird and trapping it in his palms.

He ran inside, screaming in joy.

'Dad, I have this bird! Dad, I want him! Please!'

And so, without a hesitation of doubt, the father looked at the wide smile on his boys face and reached for the scissors.

'Well then, we will make him yours.'

The next few days, the bird ignored the boy. The boy would try and play with the bird, but it would hop along on it's small feet, moving its fastest as it tended to it's clipped wings.

Sometimes the boy sat there and watched as the bird lifted his wings, trying it's hardest to take off, but only to fall back onto it's tiny legs when it realized his wings wouldn't work right.

The bird hated the boy and the boy grew more and more aware.

And one day, when the boys heart ached so bad from loving the bird so hard, he cried while it sat perched on his windowsill.

He wanted to ask the bird what he had done to make it hate him, why he couldn't love him for providing bird food, a warm home, a loving family. The next day, the boy took the bird to show and tell for his class.

The kids sat all around in a circle, watching the bird with interest as the little boy talked about him in respect.

'This is my wild bird. I caught him and made him mine.'

The bird sat there, unmoving as the class stared at him.

'Make him do something.'

'I want to see him fly.'

'Can he sing like a bird?'

But the bird was frozen in spot, as the little boy sat beside him with tears welling in his eyes, only to look up when the smartest girl in the class cleared her throat and pointed at the little boys bird.

'That's not a bird. That's a pet.'

The little girl shook her head, pushing her glasses further up her nose as the little boy started to cry.

'You've ruined him. He's not like a bird at all.'

-

The first thing she was aware of when she resurfaced from her black unconsciousness, was her heart beat.