I remember meeting the boy with the blue eyes for the very first time, remember being handed over once again. As a mascot, being passed from Warbler to Warbler was nothing special, nothing to form any sort of attachment over. This one meant nothing to me.
Not at first.
I remember weeks of seeing the longing looks thrown in the direction of the soloist, weeks of tears, weeks of Why won't he love me? Slowly, I began to feel pity for the new boy. I longed to find some way of fixing everything, some way to make the soloist realise what could be (I might just be a bird, but even I could tell the feelings were mutual).
I remember finding it.
I remember dying. I remember watching as the new one - no longer new by this point- sang for me, something about blackbirds (and here I was, thinking I was a canary). I remember watching the soloist finally, finally, understand. I remember months of feeling satisfied with what I'd achieved without even trying, months of watching them together, thinking this is forever...
I remember when it wasn't.
I remember watching as the blue-eyed boy and the soloist drifted away from each other, watching as the soloist cheated, watching as they fell out, fell apart. I remember déjà vu. I remember being sure they'd reunite, just like the first time it happened. Clearly they didn't remember the first time it happened. Clearly they didn't remember me. The reunion never came. I remember watching them give up.
I remember watching my former friend find someone else, a replacement for the soloist, and I remember wanting to scream this isn't right! But I can't. They don't even remember me. But I remember them.
Every night, I'll try to make them remember my sacrifice. I'll sing their songs until they lose their minds; try anything to make them remember I was here. I'll drive away all the replacements they find for their other half. I might be dead and gone, but I'm not going away quietly... I am one angry bird.