Chapter 3: The Hard Truth

Soon after we had gotten up, we decided that the best place to go was back to the lake for Blu and Jewel.

After all, that is where we met them, one way or another.

Even though its been over twelve hours since we got back onto dry land, our "jackets" are still wet, and mine is making my body chilled.

But it may just be me.

How the hell am I supposed to know what Blossom is thinking?

I'm not psychic, you know!

Anyways, we went back to the lake and waited.

At the very least, there was water and food nearby, so we didn't have to go far to stay nourished.

When the sun reached zenith, we finally heard other voices. They got closer and closer before I could see who it was.

Blu and Jewel were flying in front of a jeep, which had three humans in it. Two were Caucasian, and the other looked, well, Brazilian, I guess.

I never did really have the time to hear what Blu and Jewel were saying as I watched the jeep barrel towards us.

Probably telling them to slow down.

Not that it would do anything. I mean, humans can't understand bird-speak, right?

Well, I guess that the older guy looks like he would try.

But that's not the point.

The point is that this jeep is screaming towards us with no signs of stopping.

"SHIT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "DUCK!"

I ducked as quick as I could, before looking over and seeing Blossom do the same.

The car started to slide to a halt as it went over us. The sound was deafening, and I know that I got some oil on me.

Well, at least we were alive.

Shaken, but alive.

Second near death experience in less than twenty-four hours.

How lucky can I get?

The jeep rumbled to a stop a few yards away, and Blu and Jewel landed next to us.

"Sorry about that," Blu said. "Linda was never the safest driver when going 'off-road,' as they call it."

I nod, completely understanding what he's saying.

After all, my owner never was the best driver.

Based on what Blu had been saying, I could recognize that the female stepping out of the car on the driver's side was Linda.

The other two, however, I had no idea.

One had a mad scientist look to him, yet without the hair that I would expect, and the other looked Brazilian.

Interesting.

The scientist was the first one to get over to us, even though he was the farthest away in the beginning.

He did seem very intelligent in his field, which appeared to be bird hospice.

I looked at the word that was on his name card. Ornithologist.

The study of birds on an explanatory basis, using scientific instruments instead of look.

I suppose that would entitle him to making decisions on health of birds.

Especially with the situation in Rio.

You know, with all of the smugglers.

I swear to god, if I meet those two that had us chained up again, I will rip their throats out.

And that's not overdoing it, either.

I will do it if I get the chance.

Anyways, the ornithologist picked both Blossom and I up in his hands.

Immediately, I could tell that he's done this before. He lived to care for the sick and injured, to do what he can to save every bird.

I knew that we were in good hands.

He looked us both up and down, and I started to get uncomfortable.

This was very weird, even for a guy who likes birds as much as this one apparently does.

"So," I heard Linda ask. "What are their names?"

"How am I supposed to know?" the ornithologist stated. "I'm an ornithologist, not a mind reader!"

I realized that, even though he spoke English, he still had a heavy Brazilian accent.

He then looked at us. "Besides, Spix Macaws are very intelligent. I'm sure they'll tell us after we get back to the lab."

We got carried over to the truck and were put in the back, next to the Brazilian boy. Blu and Jewel landed on the seat next to us, and we started to converse once more.

The Brazilian boy looked over to Jewel and Blu. "So, do you know these guys?" he asked.

I saw Blu give a kind of sideways shaking motion with his wing, which I knew humans used for "kind-of." The Brazilian nodded and left us alone again.

Before conversations started up again, I had to ask a question.

"What are the names of the ornithologist and the boy?"

"Well, if you saw that Túlio is an ornithologist, then you should've known his name before I just told you," Blu stated.

I was about to say something back, but realized that I couldn't. Why didn't I realize that his name was on his flipping business card name tag thing?

"And the boy is called Fernando," Jewel said. "He was an orphan that helped us escape from the smugglers that captured us."

"So, you guys too?"

"Yup," Jewel stated. "Blu actually used to be Linda's 'companion,' or a fancy name for pet."

"I would like to have you know, Jewel, that we relied on each other for many of the day's tasks, and that calling me a pet is incredibly undermining my self-confidence," Blu retorted, and I had to hold back a snicker.

Jewel rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. "Calm down, brainiac, I'm only teasing you."

I had to laugh. It was like they were mates or something.

...

...

Wait a second.

"So, are you two in a romantic relationship with one another?" I asked.

Jewel just looked at me with an expression that told me that she had no idea what I had just said, and Blu looked slightly abashed.

"I'll just take that as a yes, then," I replied to their expressions.

I heard Blossom snicker, and Jewel groan. "Great," Jewel said. "Now I know two brainiacs. Will they ever shut up if they get into a good argument with one another?"

We all just laughed.

"Okay, so lets just remove those jackets first, and then we can look at you closer, and get those chains off of you," Túlio said, reassuringly.

But I noticed an edge to his voice.

Something was wrong. There was something that he couldn't fix.

And I think I knew what it was.

I didn't say anything.

I didn't want Blossom to freak out right away.

She was, after all, only a couple of inches away from me.

So I said nothing.

I did nothing but what Túlio told us to do.

So, piece by piece, he removed the "jacket" from me, and then the jacket from Blossom.

It felt so completely refreshing.

I unfurled my wings and let them soak in the air...

...before a twinge of pain from my right wing caused me to flinch.

I looked it over and saw the bullet wound, still open, but not bleeding anymore.

It was an opening to a past I would always remember, but could never achieve again.

If the opening ever healed, there would be a scar there for the rest of my days.

It was something that they put there.

And I expected that I would be able to repay the favor.

But, for now, all I could do was grimace.

It wasn't healing anytime soon, that's for certain.

And, if it didn't heal anytime soon, I was stuck until it did.

Until I could fly once more.

Túlio looked at my wing and bit his lower lip.

"We'll check up on that afterwards," he stated after a few moments.

And then came the fun part.

They strapped us in so that we couldn't move and took out an electric saw.

And the instant I saw it, I realized that my suspicions from before were true.

They may get rid of the chains that bind us together, but they would never be able to get rid of the clamps on our legs.

It would always be a reminder of what had happened.

What happened to the both of us.

We would always be birds that were chained together.

All that these clamps would do is prove that fact.

And so, the sawing began.

Blossom was freaking out the whole time, more so when the saw got close to her legs.

They tried to take off the chains connected to the clamps so that we didn't make any noise as we were flying.

At the very least, that was successful.

But the noise.

Oh dear god, the noise.

Metal grinding metal is never a pleasant sound, but each time the saw came in contact with the chain, the noise would last for a minute.

And it had to do it for both sides of one chain link.

And for both sides of the chain.

A total of four minutes of agonisingly high screeches that never seemed to end, even after one was done.

Finally, it was over.

We were released, free from one another.

We were free for the first time in three days, we were free to do what we wanted!

...

Well, for Blossom.

For me, I immediately got my wing examined by Túlio.

His face didn't look too happy, and he told me to wait one moment.

A few minutes later, he came out and held out his hand, meaning that I was supposed to jump on.

Which I did.

He brought me into a room with this machine that I had never seen before and put a heavy blanket on my lower part of the body and face, being careful not to cover my wings.

I couldn't move, and he told me not to, and then, he left the room.

The machine started to make a weird noise. I felt like panicking, but stayed calm through this alien concept of treatment.

The machine stopped, and, a few seconds later, Túlio entered the room.

He removed the heavy blankets and picked me up.

"Congratulations!" Túlio said. "Not many birds keep their cool when they have an x-ray taken of them."

An x-ray? I've heard of those.

They're usually used to detect broken bones.

Or any bones at all.

This wasn't good if he was resorting to x-rays.

About thirty minutes later, the x-rays came out.

And Túlio was very displeased.

I looked at them. I could tell which one was my left wing, and compared it to my right wing.

There was one difference between the two.

One very large difference.

On my right wing, a whole bone was shattered.

It was in many pieces, and it would take a hell of a lot of work to put it back together.

And this just wasn't the place.

I realized what this meant.

I looked up at Túlio, hoping, pleading that everything would still be fine, that in a couple of weeks, I would be fit, that I could survive out in the wild.

But the look on his face shattered that dream as much as the bullet shattered my bone.

"I'm sorry," Túlio said, "but I'm afraid that you may never fly again."

I was placed inside of an artificial jungle and immediately found a way up into an artificial tree were I could climb into an artificial hole and build an artificial nest of sorts.

I was useless.

I hated being useless, but that's exactly what I was.

I couldn't do anything for myself.

I couldn't find a place to build a nest.

I couldn't get too much of the food that my species would normally be able to get, due to much of it being in the trees.

I was prey for anything else that went on the jungle floor.

I was useless.

I remember a quote that was like this from a book that my owner read for school. It was possibly the only book he liked in his...sophomore year of high school.

Liked it so much that, afterwards, he went out and bought it for himself.

The Great Gatsby.

Yeah, that's it.

Gatsby.

He believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us.

It eluded us then, but that's no matter. Tomorrow, we will run faster-stretch out our arms farther...And one fine morning...

So we beat on.

Boats against the current.

Borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Always looking at the past, never at the future.

That was Gatsby's downfall.

Focused too much on the past, not enough on the future.

I will try to avoid the problem that Gatsby faced.

He never gave up on looking at the past.

I can never look at the past again in the same light.

He never looked around to see what the present held for him.

I will spend every day looking at everything like I have seen it for the first time.

He never looked towards any future than the one that he wanted.

I will be prepared for any and all futures that my life may have for me.

If I can bend it in my favor, I will.

Which means that I will be doing some exercise tomorrow.

Trying to take back what has been taken away from me.

Trying to do what I can to revert the past, not go back to it.

I can never go back to the past.

But I sure as hell can change the future.

I looked out at the artificial forest once more.

The lights had been turned off, and it was approaching ten o'clock, yet I was not tired.

I was not going to be exercising, either.

I was here simply to think.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

I looked at my wing and swore. It still had the gauze from the attempt at letting the wound heal.

The wound would heal, but the bones may not.

I grimaced. I wasn't here to think.

I was here to clear my mind.

But I laughed at that thought.

My mind can never be cleared of thought.

Always thinking.

Always in motion.

Just like my body.

I sigh. I can feel my talons clicking along on the tree branch to the beat of the song in my head.

They never stop.

Voices in my head never stop talking.

Thoughts never stop coming.

They may be useless.

They may be inappropriate for the situation.

But they come all the same.

And I can't do anything about it.

I can't.

I just can't.

I can't.

Can't.

Can't.

...

Couldn't.

I couldn't do anything about it.

I couldn't save him.

It's all my fault.

If he never found me, he would still be alive.

It's my fault.

"It's my fault," I mumble, knowing that no one else is around.

"I couldn't save him."

"How can I live with myself?"

"I'm the one who killed him."

"I'm killing myself slowly."

"People need to stay away from me."

I begin to pace.

"I'm crazy."

"I'm crazy."

"I'm insane."

"Don't get close to me."

"I might lash out."

"Nobody understands."

"He understood."

"We were such great friends."

"We were afflicted with the same curse."

"Always thinking."

"Always moving."

"Just like me, his mind.

Never.

Stopped.

Talking."

"There is no cure."

"I'm far too intelligent for my own sake."

"I know what I'm looking at."

"I'm looking at my life, and how horrible it's going to be."

"I'm looking at a cage."

"A cage I entered, but will never leave."

"Just like my mind."

"Information enters."

"It never leaves."

"It just gets stored."

"Sometimes, it's in a back corner, waiting to be remembered."

"But it's there."

"I may not know it, but it's there."

"Waiting to come to light once more."

"I want to achieve something great."

"But how do I do so with my mind?"

"How do I do things I want to?"

"How do I survive with my limitations."

"I just want to fly away from my problems."

"How ironic is that?"

"You know what's more ironic?"

"A domesticated bird that could fly when he was owned but can't after he goes into the wild."

"Fuck me."

"Just my luck, is it not?"

"I'm very unlucky."

"I don't see everything clearly."

"I just want to stop."

"Stop everything once in a while."

"Stop my mind."

"Stop my life."

"Stop everything."

"I want to just relax."

"My mind doesn't allow that."

"Because my mind is a curse."

I'm silent for a few seconds, taking in what I had just said.

"But it's also a blessing."

"I don't need to be social to stay alive."

"I could be locked up, just like this, and be fine."

"Sure, it would be great to have someone to talk to, but I don't need it."

"I'm not that type of person."

"I love reading."

"I love destruction."

"But only in books, controlled, or games."

"If it involves actual life, I just want it to end."

"I find it funny that humans have an insult where they call others 'bird-brains,' meaning stupid."

"Many humans actually learned that birds are very smart."

"Just like me and my friends."

"How can I stop myself?"

"How can I help myself?"

I looked up to the ceiling, like it was going to answer me. Tears began to well up in my eyes.

"I'm useless."

"I'm fucking useless."

"I hate being useless."

"How can I help others when I can't even save myself?"

The anger ebbing into my voice dissipated as one final, broken call left my beak in little more than a whisper.

"Help me."

Alright, that's a wrap for this chapter. Haven't done one of these in a while.

Yes, I like to do Author's Notes at the end and beginning of every chapter, but I felt that the story needed to keep moving, so I didn't waste my time.

Also, I don't think I'll do that many for this story, so don't expect any.

I wanted to put this in to explain a bit of the last rant, by Roy. You see, I like to put myself in as one of the characters in my story, so I try to have my drawbacks as well.

Also, the owner is supposed to be me. Yes, I live in Wisconsin, just north of Milwaukee. No, I don't own a bird, only a nine-year old yellow lab named Max. You will learn Roy's owner's name, and it will be close to my own, but I will not put my own in.

Anyways, back to the reason of the Author's Note.

Roy, like me, suffers from two mental disorders, which are a moderately severe case of ADHD, hence why he can't stop thinking and can't stop moving, and a minor case of Autism Spectrum Disorder, more leaning towards Aspergers. This is why he says that he has a higher intelligence than others (after all, I was a sophomore last school year, was taking an AP course and a senior course and had everything else honors, and got straight A's on my exams).

Let me tell you; this combination is hell on your mind.

You never stop connecting things. You never can clear your mind from thoughts, or, if you can, it takes way more effort than does a normal person.

Your mind is always active. There are nights when I go to bed with headaches because of how much I had thought of throughout the day.

You can never stay focused for that long on one thing. You're curious about everything.

You don't get social clues. Your friend group only grows out to about eight to ten people.

You don't have to be social in your life.

You miss obvious things, yet see things that nobody else does.

You're weird in the world.

You're different.

You may be crazy.

But you're also determined.

If you want to do something, you'll do it.

It's insane what happens to people when you look at them with a different lens.

With what I have, I don't see "normal" people.

I see everybody that is different from me.

I hold grudges.

I'm not perfect.

But you wanna know something?

I wouldn't want to be anybody other than myself.

I do sometimes think what Roy thinks.

But, then, I realize that I'm so much more than what I think of myself.

I realize that, if I don't exist, who will be there to fill my place.

If you keep copying others, you have two of one person and none of another.

If you become somebody else, who will fill your place?

Thank you, all of you, who have read this.

And, for the first time in a while from me, please review, and I hope to see you next time.

But, seriously, thank all of you who have read this so far. I'm trying to revitalize my writing part of my mind, so it warms me that I got so many views already.

Thank you, and read on!