A Boy and His Bird

“The two were dark and light. Black and white. Yin and Yang.”

“The two were dark and light. Black and white. Yin and Yang.”

Grace Wood, Staff Writer

There are two things to remember about for this story: it’s about an ill-fated boy and the bird. The boy had dangerous silver eyes, hair like a raven’s feathers and dark clothes which were strange, foreign. The bird, however, radiated a light atmosphere. It was white, pure, and I wanted to draw closer to it. The two were dark and light. Black and white. Yin and Yang. Somehow, they fit each other in perfect harmony like the last missing piece to the puzzle. The boy’s silver eyes looked at peace with the bird’s holy presence.


Another being emerged from the depths of darkness. From what I could see, the hollow figure was godless, a chaotic and uncontrollable power, and he may have had a human body with eyes, ears, etc., but the visible force around him showed that he was inhuman. His force made the bright summer’s day sky dark, and the air so cold that I could see the boy’s breathe.  If I understood anything about what it was, then the inexplicable embodiment was no other than a wall between the desperate boy and the faithful bird.


For a moment, I was the boy. I felt everything the boy felt: the pain with the frustration. Pushing and kicking the unholy being took out all the energy from him.  His bones ached, his eyes watered and his muscles wanted to collapse as he attempted to push toward the bird. This is hopeless, the boy thought.  He was giving up, and I didn’t want him to. Why did he not want to stand up for himself? He turned his back to the bird and gave in to the godless being. As he was leaving, the bird had a confused look in its eyes, but it did nothing and let the boy go.


Suddenly, the scene changed around me. When I could see clearly, I realized the room was not just any room but my own. I had just had a dream; however, it had seemed so realistic to me that I found it hard to shake the fact that it was, in fact, only a dream. To be honest, I did not sleep the rest of the night contemplating what it could possibly mean. I guess I have always had a knack for trying to find the deeper meanings of things, even if they do not have one.