روايات وقصص ضمن What Happened To The Bird In Unbroken

The moment I stepped into the open loading zone, a strange gust of wind hit me, cold enough to make me shiver. A few coworkers were pointing up at the sky. "Boss, look at those birds!" I glanced up. A flock of migrating birds flying south suddenly broke formation. Then, one after another, several of them dropped straight out of the sky, hitting the ground with dull thuds not far away. My heart skipped. Was that news report actually real? I was about to send someone to check when Branson Crowe, the long-haul driver, came stumbling in from outside, half-crawling, half-running. His face was coated in frost, his lips tinged purple.

It’s like the world is holding its breath, waiting to attack me. I move again. Another terrorizing hoot has me stopping in my tracks. “Shut the fuck up!” The stupid hummingbird won’t stop hooting at me like it’s warning Carlton of the danger ahead. I snatch it from the tree branch, breaking its little neck, and stomp it under my bare foot. It makes a sound, thin and stubborn. Not loud enough. It keeps trying to warn him. I end it. One more squeak. I feel it die.

Had Larissa not spoken out to stop him, Vincent might have caused the entire mountain range to collapse. "We still need to save Birdie, don't waste time." Hearing this, Vincent finally stopped, his young face still gloomy and cold. Even if he killed all these people, Birdie was still seriously injured. Birdie slept peacefully in Larissa's arms, without any sign of pain. Perhaps because she had seen Larissa and Vincent in her final moments, a content smile lingered on her lips. "Mommy, Birdie won't die, right? She can't die, can she?"

I didn’t think so. “Heal them?” Grandma repeated. “That’s what you did? And what bird are you speaking of?” “A raven, ” I said, looking down at my feet. “It flew into Ben’s windshield while we were sitting by the river. At first, we thought it was dead, but when we got out to look at it, I was able to get it back into the air.” “You brought a bird back to life?” Grandma asked, stunned. “No, I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t think it was dead. Anyway, I also fixed his windshield.”

The sight of the black car sliding across the road and stopping a few feet away from me dragged a hint of regret to the pit of my stomach. When the car came to a complete stop, I turned my focus back to the road, but it was too late. The road was curving and I tried to turn with it at the last minute. I panicked and all at once, I yanked the handle and pressed the grips. The bike leaned too far right and I began to slide across the road. Somehow my body separated from the bike and I rolled into the grass, right against a tree. The world was silent for a while. Then I heard a muffled voice say something as I struggled to keep my eyes open.

Sarah’s POV. I glance at a tattoo on my wrist – it’s a bird with a broken-wing, the memories float in my mind. I remember I have always passionate about music. My thumb brushes over the broken-wing, back then, it was a symbol of defeat. Now, it feels different. Not healed, but unfinished. I lower my hand slowly. “That girl…” I whisper to myself, my voice barely audible over the city noise “She didn’t disappear, did she?”

Have you seen a bird trying to fly with a broken wing? I have and trust me when I say,it dosen't stop him. It will fall down again and again,it will thrash around hitting the ground in pain. But with each thrust it will sour few feet higher, It will not stop even if it's wigs are on fire. Not because it can't survive on plains,but because it was born to break the barriers that restricted it's aims. It was born to fly and it will , disregarding any odds and hurricanes that came in it's way.

Comfort roared with pain and staggered backwards, one arm spewing blue fluid, the other with half a spike hanging off it. Sometimes you hear of stories where an injured athlete fights through the pain to go on and win that Olympic medal. This wasn’t going to be one of those stories. Comfort crashed backwards, stumps raised aloft, and wailed like a baby. Cheng flew up and circled around. Unscathed was still blind and flailing his arms around, probably expecting Comfort to be still attacking. Cheng swooped down low and grabbed hold of one of Unscathed’s legs, using it to carry him off.

I dodged left and right before I finally got pinned. "Leave me alone!" I begged. The bird stood over me. My heart rate was faster than a cheetah. He tried grabbing me using his beak again but I blocked it using the stick I had. The remaining strength I had for this will not be enough. I heard another arrow shot and the bird screeched but did not let go of the stick I was holding. He started flapping his wings as we lifted off the ground. I don't want to go through this again! I'll fucking lose my grip!

The big bird with a brownish color and a size of a chicken starts to struggle then it weakly stop; it looks like it is slowly losing breaths. “Oh, come on! How on earth can this cage be unlocked?” I said as I look at the metal cage that is so rusty like it was there for a long time. I see a latch that is connected to a small door of the cage so I unlock it and slowly put inside the cage my hand until I reach the latch of the upper that will open widely. I slowly pull out my hand hoping that the bird won’t suddenly attack my hand, or do something painful to it. I open the top lead then reluctantly pick the weak and dying bird. It sure is heavy and the feathers are so soft yet weirdly differen