I wake up dreary, remembering the night before. It all comes back in a flash. I remember my baby birds. They must have only been two days old when my sister and I found them. They were so helpless and small, we just had to take them inside our house. The next day it rained, so my sister and I collected worms to feed our new babies. On their third night with my family, the baby birds passed away. Grief overwhelmed me at the thought of this memory. I quickly get ready for the day, always on the verge of tears. My dad and I drive to school in silence. I open the window and feel the wind in my hair, but I only feel worse, for I can hear the chirping of birds. I quickly roll up my window, afraid I am going to break down. My father finally pulls the car up to the school and I begin a new day.