The forest seems alive. Vibrant verdant of the leaves trickling with morning dew as the birds sang their willful tune.

The child ran carefree upon the meadow and played with the dragonflies.

But life is not always like that, isn’t it?

The child that can run carefree will not be observed by their parents. How worried they might be. They can fall into danger…or they can be the danger itself.

The boy that can run carefree upon the meadows while playing with his slingshot. He shot the closest rock, it broke. He shot the closest grass, it rustled. He wonders what else he can shoot?

Ebony wings fluttered with the sky that accompanies it, it flew fast playing with the clouds. It flew into the closest tree, the flowers, and the leaves.

However, fate loves to play with all the living—and the boy met the bird.

He shot the closest bird, it weakened. He shot it again, it bled. He shot it over and over. He shot the closest bird, it died—but the boy only seemed to smile! The bird never mattered, like the rock and the grass. They value wilts when the boy says…

“I’m the best shooter in the village!”

When the sun set and the sky seemed to sleep, he proudly told his parents what had happened. Their horrified look contrasted the boy’s proud smile. His parents prayed the whole night.

The first day of the week, the boy awoke weakened. His strength sapped and remained flaccid the whole day. His head feels big while his body feels small, he can’t regain his balance.

The third day of the week, his body is still weakened. He tried to get up, again and again until his bones broke—One by one. The boy had never cried so much. His parents kept on praying for God.

The fifth day of the week, he woke up blind. He cried and screamed and thought—what did he do to deserve this? Was it the rock, the grass, the bird? He prayed and apologized the whole night.

On the seventh day of the week, God is sleeping. The boy cried blood while his parents wept in grief. Why didn’t they teach their child properly? The first stage of grief.

But what killed the boy in such a grotesque manner? The boy simply killed the mountain deity’s friend.

The friend she loved to watch fly upon the sky. The bird she loved that the boy simply shot it over and over again. The deity never forgot the smile that etched on the boy’s face.

The child didn’t kill it for food and followed the circle of life. He didn’t know that if you do what you wish without morality it’s—life for a life.