Peekie

Break my heart. This is the first few paragraphs of my story. I want to know everything that bothers you, grammatical errors, anything that is unclear, annoying, too much description, whatever. I won't describe what is happening beforehand because I want to know if the story is somewhat clear to what's going on. I cannot tell anymore, all words are a swimming blur to me.

ps, my formatting is screwy, yahoo won't tab my paragraphs.

Nighttime wasn't supposed to be this scary. Not for someone like me. But as I stumbled through pitch-blackness I could honestly say I was about to plunk over in a fright-coma. Be strong, I told myself as invisible rocks dug into the soft soles of my white tennies. Your kind isn't afraid of the dark.

Liar, liar...pants on fire...

I pushed a grimy knot of sweat-soaked hair off my forehead and continued my blind expedition with my hands out in front of me. Only a single point of light glowed amongst the swirling darkness; the white-hot circle of a spotlight whirred over the rocky landscape, trying to catch sight of my flailing body. I paused my haphazard march as the circle passed, slowly and deliberately, over a line of filth-spattered vehicles hardly a few yards away. I crouched down in the mud, hoping the beam would soon find interest in a place far, far away. Nope. The spotlight backtracked in mid-arc and flashed within inches of my face.

I threw myself behind a jeep and cracked my forehead good and hard on the bumper, my eyeglasses barely managing to cling to my face by one earpiece. I rubbed my scalp, blinking purple dots from my eyes, and dogs started barking somewhere in the distance. I crawled army-man-style underneath the jeep, prickly weeds digging into my palms and mud smearing the front of my orange jumpsuit. I got all the way under and lay perfectly still, watching the light flit around the tires. This was such a bad day. Heaven help me, this was a really bad day. My forehead throbbed and smarted, my loose, frizzy curls were falling into my face in clumps matted with mud and something that smelled suspiciously like kerosene, and I needed a hardcore manicure on account I’d used my nails to pry open the lock on the back gate.

Okay, I know this looks really bad. Escaping from prison is a very appalling, illegal thing to do. But it hasn't always been like this. I'm a nice, good girl. I'm not accustomed to diving under jeeps, prying locks off gates and running from snarling security dogs. I don't deserve this. I was framed. Framed, I tell you...as any straightjacket-clad prisoner from the loony bin might scream in a spray of spit. Except I really mean it. And I am here, in prison, because of one person. And as much as the judge, jury, and prison guards would like to believe it, it wasn’t me.

A month ago I was so blessed to bring home a gorgeous 4-month-old Lutino female 'tiel, and I did notice a bald patch behind her crest but I also noticed pin feathers poking out back there. Now it is almost 100% filled in, and obviously her breeder has done a good job overcoming the "typical lutino bald patch" and I am wondering if its going to stay filled in her entire life? Or is it going to go bald again as she gets older?

Hi, a couple weeks ago I bought a four-month-old cockatiel from a pet shop that claimed the little guys were "hand fed". They were priced that way as well. I've hand tamed a couple budgies from being wild to a part of the family, so I thought it would be nice to buy a bird that has already had some experience with hands. Well now I'm starting to think the hand fed thing was a bit of a joke, because this guy is scared poopless of hands. When I first bought him I left him alone for a while to get used to his new cage, I gradually increased his toys to not to freak him out in his new home. He likes his toys now, h plays with them all day, dosen't ever make noise (is THAT normal??) He does not like hands the slightest, but his behavior is what confuses me most. I've done my best to take it slow to build his trust; I leave my hand at the bottom of the cage until he dosen't mind it. Then a little closer. Sometimes he accepts millet from me, other times he runs away and acts like he never saw me before, sometimes he goes all velocarapter on me and jumps on my hand and bites bites bites. sometimes he actually jumps up on my hand and preens his feathers, even ducks his head under my thumb. And then his crest will go down and he'll do the velocarapter thing again. I don't understand... its like he has three different birdies in there!! Any help? What can I do to keep him sweet? What am I doing to cause this ferocious biting?