Continued from May 22, 2018
#AmWriting #Fiction #IndieAuthor
Marcus watched Dylan play with his ball and glove for a while before returning to his camera. He took a few more pictures before he heard Dylan’s panicked crying from around the side of the house.
As Marcus rounded the corner, Dylan was approaching him holding an injured robin.
“Dad! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know…” He blurted, holding the bird out, “Can you help it?”
“What happened?” Marcus said, taking the bird. It twitched in his hands as its head lolled to the side. It was still alive but just barely.
“My ball…” Dylan said, “I didn’t think it would hit it…”
“You threw your baseball at it? Why would you do that?” Marcus snapped as he turned, carrying the bird into the house so he could call a veterinarian.
“I didn’t mean to…” Dylan cried as tears began running down his face.
“We can talk about this soon, right now I need to focus on this. Go to your room. I’ll come get you soon.” Marcus said, his face red with anger.
Dylan walked with his head down, sniffling the whole way as they entered the house. Marcus went straight to the kitchen while Dylan climbed the stairs.
Marcus grabbed a baking dish and a towel, creating a rudimentary bed for the bird before he set it down gently and rushed to the phone.
He dialed Information, asked for an emergency vet, and got the vet to agree to come to the house. He hung up the phone and returned to the bird, who was still twitching.
“This isn’t good.” He muttered to himself when he saw the bird was bleeding and it’s wing was bent at an odd angle. “I hope the vet gets here soon…”