I have this idea...
Now, I'm choosing to use a different sort of narrative for this story. It's more like a rough draft. Let's begin!


A small bird falls out of a tree during a cold stormy night and cheeps for hours for help but the other birds above cannot hear him. He felt somebody fly up and push him but he can't figure out who could've done it, and now he's on the ground. One bird screamed after him as he fell but no one ever came down to save him. This bird worries now that the others were attacked but there is nothing he can do; he has a broken wing. He has to get out of the weather. It's freezing and his feathers are getting badly soaked. He hops over and takes shelter under some shrubbery.

All night, he tries to stay calm to control some of the pain. And when morning comes, he hears the other birds come down chirping like nothing happened last night. They sound happy. More than relieved, he calls out for help again, but very weakly. The biggest bird glances in his direction, yet doesn't move from where he stands. The little bird yells out, straining his beautiful voice. The big bird looks at the others and then flies away. The others stare at the shrubbery and then take off behind him. The little bird watches them leave and slowly lowers his body closer to the ground. He doesn't understand. Why would they do this? Maybe they're going to get help? But there were plenty of them to come and help. This is his flock. Is it because he fell they would leave him like this? Is it because of his size and how different he is? Is he 'incompetent'? What did he do to deserve to be ignored? He rests his small head back into his feathers and closes his eyes, making a soft, struggled 'cheep' sound. It's not his fault he fell from the tree. Somebody pushed him!

Many more hours pass and tons of different birds land near him, acknowledging him but never speaking to him once. Even the same birds from this morning come back and leave again! He knows for sure now, he's all on his own. And with that thought, he starts moving his wings a little at a time. He's going to prove that he's more than anyone ever imagined. It hurts a lot; it stings and he just wants to give up, but he needs to get back up in that tree.

The little bird gives it his best shot and pushes off the ground, flapping his wings with great strength and determination. But he falls. Again, again... and again. He flips around and stands up. Try, try again! Keep trying! He jumps and flaps his wings with all his might and he feels like life is draining right out of him. He's halfway there! He can't fall now! His body wants to give out on him. No, he's stronger than this! He's stronger than all those that left him behind. He imagines if they had it in their minds it was alright to do this to him, and if they were to be in this same position, they would easily give up. He uses this thought and it pushes him all the way up to the branches. The worry about how much energy and strength he has disappears from his mind.

Finally, he lands safely on one of the branches and his head falls in exhaustion. He made it... he actually made it. And nobody helped him.

He sees his flock return, and a few seconds later, the big bird hops across the grass over to where he was before. The big bird seems confused now. He looks everywhere for the little one and it draws the other birds over. Are they finally showing some empathy? Or are they curious to see if some larger bird snatched him? Either way, it goes to show just what sort of birds these are.

As the little bird watches those below, he hears the big one say something about feeling guilty now for pushing him. He admits he was bullying him. The other birds praise him though; they say the little one 'didn't belong anyway'.

Saddened, heartbroken now, the little bird looks away and then carefully turns around to look at the sunset. These are the same birds he once called family. He loved them.