spice_of_inu_yasha

Heart of Ice
2005-04-03 05:10:00 (UTC)

My Guilt

This page is basically a gilt page. Everyone has guilt, but
this has been playing with my mind for some time, I think
for 3 years...I can't do anything to get rid of it, but I
hope that talking will make it go away, just a
little...It's long just to warn you...

My Guilt

Death, everyone has to experience or witness it at least
once in his or her lives. No one likes to, but what is life
without death? For every new life, there is death.

What are the things that first come with death? Denial;
that is the first symptom, well, in my experience. Next is
depression; who wouldn't feel depressed? After that is
guilt; you blame yourself for the death of the living
thing. The last is acceptance; you accept what happened and
move on, though you always remember the incident.

However, these things can change in different situations.
Now, you may call me a baby, or tell me to grow up and get
over it, but these creatures, friends, were important to
me. Yes, they were animals, but they were very close to me,
they were my friends when I had none.

So this is where my guilt comes in. It flows through my
veins like a poison, slowly killing me; while it manifests
in my mind, slowly consuming me.

You see, I had these two birds, at different times of
course. They were cool, they could talk, and they LOVED to
be cuddled. They were both parakeets, and I loved them both
very dearly.

I didn't have many friends, and I was going through a hard
time in my life during the time I got these two birds. You
see, I had cancer, so yeah...that's a whole different story
though...

The first bird was named QT, if you say it out loud it
sounds like cutie. It was a girl, and my first bird that I
got, she was also the first pet that only belonged to me,
and no one else.

This bird talked to me, slept with me, followed me, and
answered me when I called. Where I was, this bird followed,
chirping merrily.

One day however, QT got a cut on her stomach. We took her
to the vet and the vet put one of those round saucer things
on her neck. That way, the bird would not peck at the
wound, and it could heal while we put cream on it.

The bad part about this plan was that we weren't counting
on the neckpiece to cut into the poor birds skin. So once
again we took QT back to the vet.

This time the vet decided to put a bandage around the
bird. I decided to watch while my mom waited in a waiting
room.

I watched as they put bandages around her. Eventually I got
a bit bored, and interested in the other animals in the
vets place. So I looked at them for a minute.

I came back to watch my bird when I heard her frantic
callings when I left. I seen that she didn't seem right,
she was panting heavily.

I asked the vet about it; the vet replied in a passive
voice, "Oh, the bird is just a bit stressed out, she will
be fine." I was only 12 at the time, so I believed her
words. If I knew more about bird, I would have told them to
go to hell and give my bird a break...

They finally finished putting bandages on my bird. I was
happy, until something about my bird seemed really off. She
started closing her eyes, and her grip on the vet’s hand
went slack.

The vet started talking about some things like, "Don't do
this to me girl, come on, your fine." then she asked her
assistant to go get the oxygen.

I had no clue what was happening, so I questioned the vet
about it. She replied, "Your bird stopped breathing, she is
having a heart attack." I felt all the color in my face
drain away...

I started to cry while calling for my bird. I watched as
the nurse came back with the oxygen tank. I watched as the
life slowly drained from my closest friend's eyes.
Everything around me was unknown, I almost didn't notice
when my mom came to see what was happening...

My bird died that night. There, on the vet’s table. My best
friend was gone, the only thing I told any of my sorrow and
fear to. The only thing that brought comfort to me in the
dark times, the pet that was more like a strange type of
sister, a sister I never had...

Why do I feel guilt? Because as soon as the vet told me
that the bird was stressed out I should have demanded that
she give the bird a break. I should have made her, or not
even brought her to this vet. I found out later that the
vet knew almost nothing about birds. I also found out that
birds are very fragile, and get scared quite easily and
quickly.

If I had just studied the animal I owned I also would have
been able to prevent that incident. I can never forget her
there, lying limp on the table as the doctor worked to make
her breath. The way her eyes looked, how they once shined
with life, how they now hold nothing but darkness...

We buried her in are backyard with her favorite toy, a
fluffy green bird...

But no, that wasn't the end of my sorrow for birds. I mean,
why stop there? Why not torment me more? Moving away from
everyone because of cancer then having my only friend die
wasn't good enough that year! Oh no! We had to do it all
over again!

I got another bird, a parakeet again. This one was a boy,
and we named it JT. I say that JT stands for Justice for
QT, but my mom says the 'J' stands for a guy, and the 'T'
is in remembrance of QT.

My dad had bought this bird in hopes of filling the hole
that QT had left. We got the bird three days after her
death. I had hoped it would ease the pain, but it never
really did...

Anyways, once again, this bird became my best friend. He
was like QT, except a boy. He talked more also, and he
would fly from his cage to sleep with me in my bed. His
favorite thing was a blue hanging bed in his cage, he would
always sleep in it...He loved being under things...

It was summer time, things seemed great. I felt that
nothing would take my bird away at all. I knew that I
learned from my mistake with the other one. I also promised
him that I would never let anything bad happen to him, a
promise I intended to keep. I'm sure you already realized,
this promise was broken.

It was a week after we got a new bird from a garage sale.
They first hated each other, but over the week they slowly
warmed up.

I was waiting for my turn on the computer, to make a cd. I
had already saved the set up for where all my songs would
be, all I had to do was pop the cd in the burner and
click 'record'.

My brother finally called me while I was playing with my
two birds in my room. I looked to them to see if they
wanted to come with me. I didn't expect my new bird named
Baby to go, which was a cockatiel. JT usually follows me
everywhere, even when his wings are clipped he still
manages to fly around...its odd now that I think about it...

He nibbled on my finger a bit hard to indicate he wished to
remain where he was. I said fine and walked out the door,
knowing he would change his mind and come. When I didn't
hear the familiar flapping noise of his wings, I figured
that perhaps he really didn't want to come. So I closed the
door, but it was closed hard enough, a crack was left open.

It was then that the familiar flapping noise reached my
ears. I turned and saw through the crack JT flying towards
the door. I smiled, he did want to come! My smile fell
instantly however, when he didn't swerve away from the
door, but instead hit it dead on, where the small crack
was...

He must have thought he could make it through, that's why
he didn't swerve away. When I opened the door to see if he
was all right, I found him flopping like crazy on the
floor. It looked like he was having seizures. He was crying
out constantly, and I was scared to pick him up in fear of
furthering him injuries.

I finally gathered my courage, and carefully picked him up.
He laid flat in my hands, on his stomach, something I was
not used to for he always stood on his two feet. He looked
limp like QT, and his breathing was very heavy, like her. I
panicked.

Running into the hall I did the only thing that made sense
to me. I yelled for my mother. Through blurry tears I saw
her emerge from her room. I rushed my bird over to her and
prayed that she would tell me this was easily fixable.
Instead her brow furrowed, and a sadden look crossed her
features.

I will never forget her words.

"I think your bird is going to die, I'm sorry. It's only a
matter of time before he passes away." I would not accept
it, I couldn't. So I forced them to stress all options to
ensure we did everything in are power to save his life.

We drove to the emergency vets place. A half hour drive
from where we lived. He made it through the ride, now it
was a question of him making it through the night.

I didn't want to leave his side; somehow I knew once I did,
I would never see him again. I felt that my presence there
would make a difference, but in the end, I was forced to
leave.

12:04 we received a phone call. My blood went cold when the
phone rang; I felt the impending doom that call would have.
I didn't want to answer it; I didn't want anyone to answer
it. After all, if you don't hear it, it didn't happen?
Right?

My mom picked up the phone, JT was dead...




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