narrative essay
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It's July 1993. I'm 12 years old. We are watching television in the living room. I hear a bird chirping outside the window. I pull the curtain wide open to see where the chirp was coming from. I saw the baby bird limping on the sidewalk, it must have fell out of the tree. Something told me to go outside and bring the bird inside before a cat gets to it and eat it up. I said to my brother, "There's a bird outside limping, lets bring it in the house until it gets better and then we'll let it go."
My brother and I dash to the door to get the bird. As we both got to the porch and ran down three painted red steps, the bird began to hope toward a bush on the side of our house...