Surrounded by curious children eager to see what you had found, you held something in your hands. As you revealed the object in your palms, the children’s excitement turned to screams at the sight of a dead sparrow.

Scared, they all fled, leaving you alone in a state of confusion… and sadness. You started to cry on the playground, sitting under the slide.

It was just a cute little birdie… why did everyone run…?

Your gaze lowered to the lifeless bird as your thumb gently brushed against its feathers. Unaware of approaching footsteps, you remained absorbed until amother classmate towered over you. He seemed unaffected by the face you had a bird in your bloody hands.

“What’s wrong…?”