It was mid afternoon on June 12th, his summer heat was stronger than ever as he breathed down my neck. I got out of my room that was cooler than a cucumber because I felt like the living room was calling me, telling me to go play with Birdie, my zebra finch that was with my aunt. I got up and went into the living room to get Birdie and that’s when I saw him. His jet black eyes were no longer open. His white spotted gray and brown wings were no longer flapping. His delightful tunes no longer spilling out of his fiery red beak like water boiling out of a pot and worst of all his round frame was now flatter than a pancake. My beautiful bird was laying there, lifeless, on the left side of my tan couch. My heart felt like there were a thousand
