Timmy was 15 years old when his dad, Ronald died. He loved Ronald so much and you could tell that his father’s death scattered his heart into a million pieces. Ronald was a middle-aged man in his 30’s. He had a brown-blondish hair color with blue eyes that used to be full of life but now they grew dull and lifeless as they put him into that cold ground. He had a slim figure and was very reliable, always in a stained white t-shirt and tattered blue jeans, the “Average Joe.”
“ My dad didn’t have a long life, but we need to remember that the life he lived his good, 30 years. He made us full of inspiration and filled us with the hope to go on.
Timmy spoke with passion and commitment to get his point across. As he spoke the crowd grew weaker and it seemed like the entire world wept as you looked around and all you could see was stuffy noses, red faces, and teary eyes. Timmy wasn’t alone in this pain, he had loved ones rush the podium with sobs in pursuit to comfort him of his fathers passing. Timmy didn’t know that this day would completely alter his entire future and everything to come in his life.
The next couple of years Timmy changed. His face had no pigment; he was as pale as a ghost and he too lost the light in his eyes, when his father died part of him died to. His inspiration and role model died and so did Timmy’s characteristics; he was now unable to find his voice in any event, his hair grew gray at the age of 17, and he now became weak because he had refused to ea;, he was skin in bones, unable to recover, with a never forgetting scar of that horrid event.

“ You need to get back in your groove boy,” Said a starchy voice that now seemed distant.
“ Who said that?” Asked Tim. Then the voice continued it continued until the two voices began to have a conversation.
Talking about life and such thing and this ordeal took place everyday after school, at a tree where all things were silent and the great plains stretched everywhere. This place made Tim feel at peace, along with the voice. This tree was a symbol of hope for Timmy; something he hadn’t felt until his fathers passing. Then one day, Tim found out what the voice was. It was a dove, white as snow and very beautiful, its coat sparkled and his voice was now like an angel’s.
He gazed upon this phenomenon and asked, “ Who and What are you?”
The White bird responded, “ I’ve seen you struggling boy I watch you day in and day out and I know you’re sad that your daddy is gone, but has not. He’ll always be with you just come to this tree and he will be with you.”

Then Timmy left without saying a word.

He now thought nothing of the bird when he got home he was disrespecting his surroundings. He beat his room until it was a clutter of clothing and broken dreams, and he didn’t know what to do except to go to bed. In the morning he decided what he must do is go back to the tree and find things out, once and for all.
But when he returned all he received was silence the bird no longer lingered on the branch that made him look so beautiful and the boy received no advice or voice. As the boy ventured back he heard something abruptly, he turned around and all he saw was a black bird singing the song of death. About consuming souls and ruining lives, the boy’s hope, dreams and everything else was forever crushed.