Will Too Much Freedom Kill You

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When I was 10, a sparrow used to flit about in the ceiling hole above the classroom and sometimes it perched on the window rail as if to watch our teacher teaching in class. It was a quiet little fellow that rarely chirped. Maybe some sparrows don't always chirp

One day, the little sparrow got unusually brave to swoop down from the hole and aim at the ceiling fan. It met its end at the fan's blades, unfortunately. There was a "ting!" and the stupid bird plopped straight onto the floor, right in front of our teacher, who was screaming in shock at the sight of a tiny winged creature suddenly dropping nearby her shoes.

The whole class went hysterical. Children either screamed along, gasped loudly, laughed in glee or chattered vigorously at the incident. I stared at the miniscule thing and noticed it was trying to breathe as it possibly could. The sparrow was struggling to stay alive. I was in awe at how the creature still fought to continue breathing even though there was no chance it could survive the powerful hit (the fan speed was set to level 5)

I took out a few paper tissues, walked towards where the teacher stood and scooped the dying bird into the tissues, before carrying it back to my desk. I laid the tissue-covered bird inside the desk drawer and let it remain there. The girl siting beside me smirked and said,  "Weirdo."

When the class stopped for recess, I took out the tissue-covered bird from the desk drawer and peered at it. Several classmates were interested to know what I was going to do. One girl asked, "Are you going to keep it as your pet?"

I sighed. "No," I replied. "It's dead."
"Then why do you still have it?"

I told them that I wanted to see how long it fought to remain alive. And I counted - it was 20 minutes.

While carrying the now tissue-covered carcass inside the pocket of my navy blue pinafore, I headed to the canteen to buy myself a vanilla-lime ice lolly. I never ate with friends at the canteen since I am always comfortable eating alone even until today. Then after finishing the ice lolly, I walked to the school field and kept on walking until I reached the edge of the field where tall grass and small trees grew. There was no one around

I began digging a small hole in the ground, enough to fit in a mouse, with the wooden ice lolly stick. Removing the bird carcass out of my pinafore pocket, I made sure it had really ceased breathing and placed it carefully inside the hole. I refilled the hole with surrounding dirt afterwards, and planted the ice lolly stick on top of the tiny grave.

While leaving the school field, my mind ran through the sparrow's behavior before its death - from the moment it was a silent observer to the point it transformed into a foolhardy daredevil, up to the time it struggled to hold on to the last fabric of life until it finally met its death.

A question then popped in my head, "Will too much freedom kill you?"

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