So I was about to eat lunch, right? A harmless and delectable pizza roll that I very much looked forward to consuming. Little did I know it excited a scorching, lethal fire in more bellies than my own. I found a bench by myself and unpacked my lunchbox. The park in front of me was sweet and comely. It felt nice to be a part of nature. In unwrapped my prize and raised it to my mouth, taking a grateful bite. A bird swooped down from a tree with gossamer wings. It approached cautiously, chirping, and fixed me with two red, beady eyes. Eyes like the devil incarnate.
I smiled at this feather fiend, oblivious to its sinister plot.
"Are you hungry?" I asked it. It stared at me with the same cautious face, waiting to see what I would do. I felt too happy to be selfish and shredded some of my lunch. As soon as it hit the ground, it was gone, and a second bird flew down to my little bench. I should have recognised the symptoms and run while I still had the chance.
"You too?" I asked it. It hopped forwards a little, and I threw it a scrap of bread. At once, both of them opened their beaks and made a sweet an tempting chirping. It was a piercing whistle, that reminded me of a more seemly version of the seagull’s caw. Although it was beautiful and innocent, something inside me frowned, and I knew something was wrong. I cannot hope to put to words exactly what it is I felt, but I knew deep within my heart that things were about to turn dangerous.
My intuition proved true as a half dozen of the same birds flew from out of cover. They came from trees, from behind buildings, from over hills and under bushes. They surrounded me and chirped expectantly, all of them fixing me with hungry eyes. At that moment, I realised the situation was familiar. I had seen it before, on "Jurassic Park". I little girl, naive and beautiful, had fed a few dinosaurs some of her chicken sandwhich. They only went halfway up to her knees, but as she fed them, they called to others until there were a good twenty of them. As far as I can tell, they ate her alive. I remember her face as she suddenly realised her new friends had put her in grave danger. I heard her scream as she learned it was too late.
I grabbed my bag and picked up my lunchbox. I walked off immediately, not wanting to be pecked to death over a few scraps of bread, but my foes were cunning and obstinate. They followed insistently, chirping and cawing. They looked beautiful and innocent, but their eyes betrayed their nature. I cannot tell you how fearful I felt to walk away and have about 8 birds walking less than a meter behind me. I went around corners and through the undercroft of buildings, but they did not yield. I went in search of other humans to scare them off with, for even if I moved towards them or threw out my foot, they’d simply fly a meter away and watch me. Like the girl in Jurassic Park, I had run off to explore all by myself in predator territory. Unlike the girl from Jurassic Park, I was not stupid enough to try and feed the rest of them.
I can remember, even when I was fearful of my life and walking away
with a mass of predators after me, I pondered my chance at fighting
them. Most of them walked, but one or two of them flew, and I readied
myself to jump up and kicked them like all that practice I had done on
higher-than-head-height tree branches. The fluttering of wings and feathers put my mind into panic-alert, much like a mouse that he seen the shadow of an owl. Any fast movement from my persuers made me shiver with anticipation if it came to a fight-or-flight scenario. I would have no choice but to fight, because like hell if I was going to get beaten by a few birds. That said, once I lost both eyes I’d probably try and run into a building where the glass doors would keep me safe. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
I ditched most of them as I passed through a congested area (meaning about five people sitting on the stairs, seeing as the university was closed on a Sunday), two of them still flew after me. I couldn’t believe how stubborn they were. When I could no longer see them, I walked off by myself to re-pack my lunchbox and put it in my bag. I had been carrying it the whole time, fearful that if I stopped for even a moment, I would be overcome. The two birds approached, one of them on the ground, one of them on a railing at about chest height.
"Go on, try it," I taunted. Like hell if I were going to let them steal my lunch now. Their eyes flickered from between mine, and my pizza. I put the remaining half of my meal in my mouth to zip my bag shut, but this proved a bad move. The bird on the railing took up my offer and flew at my face to snatch some from my mouth. As soon as it saw my arm move, it pulled back so my hand batted it harmlessly. Had it continued, I am sorry to say I would have knocked it to the ground without pity.
After that, a few detours shed my stalkers. I was surprised to find myself alone as I marched across the grass. I saw a pigeon hopping around nearby.
"Ohhh no, I’m not gonna fall for that one again," I said. I made a solemn promise, right then and there, never to feed the birds again.
You sort of forget that the rest of the animal kingdom does not stand to reason. It’s fight or die. Things get dangerous when you can’t bribe a hungry predator to go eat someone else.