An Eight Minute Hero
By S. F. Brooke
I hate winter. Especially when It’s that time of the year again, when we, Cape May Warblers have to migrate from the North to the South because of the wintery season coming up. Personally, I would say I hate winters because of the cold weather, but I’ll give it credit for its incredible view. As I look over at all my friends and family getting g ready for a long trip flying across the sky, I notice a glimmering golden statue right ahead. I head towards it even though I know we are leaving quite soon, I examine it closely and it turns out it’s a golden statue of a boy. It’s a human but not necessarily an alive one. I envy humans for not having to migrate every early winter across multiple areas just to stay alive during the chilly season. Since I am the type of bird humans always want to adopt as their pet, I ran away from my last owner because they kept me in a cage the entire time while they went off most of the time doing stuff. They were good, but not fun and very boring. I stay like that for while: just on the golden boy statue’s shoulder, pondering about what it would be like to be human instead of a Cape May Warbler. All of a sudden I hear a voice:
“Hello bird, lovely day isn’t it?” I turn my head slowly left and right but don’t see anyone.
“You are on my shoulder” Huh? It can’t be the statue. But it is, how would a statue be talking like that? For a second I think it’s all a joke and someone is playing tricks on me, but there is not a single soul nearby to have such a clear voice close enough that I can hear. It looks like my mom wasn’t wrong when she said there are ghosts everywhere. Horrified, I turn to leave, when I hear (supposedly the creepy statue boy) speak again:
“Please don’t leave, is it possible if you can help me with something?” I think it over. Scratch that, I’m overthinking it too much and I still haven’t given my response.
“It depends on what that thing is” I respond back.
“Very well then, do you see that sick girl on the fourth floor of that building?” I nod.
“Take my left eye and give it to her father”. Hold up. What? No way this statue of a freak is asking me to take his hard-rock eye and give it to some random stranger. As if sensing my hesitation, he says,
“Please do it for me, you will find out why once you give it to her father”. I really don’t want to do it because I’m leaving really soon, I can see some of my friends have already started to fly away. Something sincere about the statue tells me that I should do it. So I pluck the golden stone from his eye with my beak and fly over to the window of the girl who looks ill. Once I arrive, her father is weeping silently next to her while rocking on the chair. The place they are in looks very old and plain. The walls are all cracked up like scars that have been on someone’s skin for years. I fly quietly over to the guy and drop the golden-eyed stone on his lap. He then looks at the golden stone in his lap and I then smile. Then it falls on me, like a thunderbolt striking. The golden statue boy was trying to help the father by giving him his golden eye so he can sell it in order to afford to pay for the medical bills and get her the medical treatment she needs. Honestly, how very considerate, I don’t think I ever reached being as thoughtful as that before. Attempting to be happy for him I make a (what would sound like a very awkward) sound and take my leave.
Without any option, I head back to golden statue boy. I start saying,
“I’m sorry for being impatient with you earlier” I apologize. Honestly, who knew a statue was so capable of being kind?
“No need to be worried at all, non-taken. Now, can you take my right eye and give it to the young boy sitting in the middle of the street?” The golden statue boy responds.
“Yes, of course.” As I take the heavy stone from his eye I realize that it’s starting to snow really bad. A snowstorm is about to happen. As quickly as I can manage, I take up all my courage and go to the young boy and drop the golden stone next to him. Unlike the father and the girl, the young boy was sitting on the street looking very cold and with nowhere to go. A little while later, the boy notices what I have dropped and doesn’t say anything. Just simply takes and walks away in snowy weather. Hmm, interesting. Anyways, I am really freezing and I’m pretty sure everyone I know has flown without me in hopes to reach the south. But I can barely manage to open my wings and fly. But I try my best, even though I keep close to falling every time I try to go back to the statue. But when I, at last, arrive back at the spot where the statue is, I don’t see the statue of the golden boy. The place the statue was in was replaced with a white coat of snow. Was this all an illusion? I look around weakly trying to search for the statue, then I find him. The golden statue boy has morphed into an actual boy and says to me:
“Thank you for removing both of those stone eyes out, because now I am back to who I was. Anyways, enjoy the rest of your day.” I feel dizzy, then everything turns black.
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