At the funeral, a crow landed on the girl’s coffin. A second later, everyone there was totally speechless…

The sterile brightness of the hospital room felt oppressive as the doctors worked swiftly around Mona’s still body. Her parents stood outside in the hallway, their faces pale and drawn with fear. Her mother clutched her husband’s arm, her knuckles white, as tears streamed down her face.

She was fine this morning, she whispered, her voice trembling. How could this happen? Her father didn’t answer, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared through the small window of the door. Inside, the doctors were performing a battery of tests, their voices low and hurried.

Mona lay motionless on the bed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Onyx was nowhere to be seen, but the sound of his cries could be faintly heard from outside the hospital. Hours passed and the doctors finally emerged from the room.

One of them, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, approached Mona’s parents. We’ve done everything we can, he began, his tone grave. Her breathing is extremely shallow and her oxygen levels are critically low.

We suspect it’s a respiratory issue, but we haven’t been able to pinpoint the exact cause. Her mother’s knees buckled and her husband caught her before she could fall. What does that mean? she asked, her voice barely audible.

Is she going to be okay? The doctor hesitated, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. We’ve run scans of her lungs and chest and everything appears normal, he said carefully, but she’s unresponsive and her condition is deteriorating. We’re putting her on life support for now to stabilize her.

Her father’s voice was tight with frustration. How can you know what’s wrong with her? She was perfectly healthy until today. The doctor sighed, his expression somber.

It could be a number of things, an undetected allergy, a sudden asthma attack, even stress-induced trauma. We’re continuing to investigate, but for now… He paused, his face heavy with regret. For now, we have to prepare for the possibility that she may not recover.

The words hit them like a physical blow. Her mother buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably while her father stood frozen, his mind racing with disbelief. Mona, their vibrant, intelligent daughter, was lying on a hospital bed, slipping away from them, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Outside the hospital, Onyx perched on a narrow ledge, his beady eyes fixed on the window of Mona’s room. He cawed loudly, flapping his wings in agitation, but the staff ignored him. To them, he was just a nuisance, an intrusive bird that had no place in the hospital.

A nurse opened the window to shoo him away, but Onyx didn’t move. He let out another piercing cry, his feathers ruffling as if he could sense the urgency of the situation. Inside the room, Mona’s breathing grew fainter.

The beeping of the monitors slowed, and the doctors exchanged worried glances. They ran another set of scans, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Her lungs were clear, her heart was strong, and yet she remained unresponsive.

It was as if her body had simply shut down, refusing to fight any longer. By the time night fell, the doctors called her parents into the room. Mona lay pale and still on the bed, her small frame dwarfed by the medical equipment surrounding her.

The hum of the machines was the only sound in the room, a stark reminder of the fragility of her condition. I’m sorry, the doctor said quietly, his voice filled with sympathy. We’ve done everything we can, but her brain activity is minimal.

We believe she may have suffered from a sudden, severe lack of oxygen. At this point, it’s unlikely she’ll wake up. Her mother let out a wail of anguish, collapsing into a chair as her husband held her.

Tears streamed down his face, but he refused to break down. What happens now? he asked hoarsely. We’ll keep her on life support for a little while longer, the doctor replied, but if there’s no improvement, we may need to discuss the next steps.

The room spun around them as the doctor’s words sank in. The possibility of losing Mona felt like a nightmare they couldn’t wake up from. Her father clenched his fists, his mind racing with helplessness.

Her mother clung to his arm, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to comprehend the reality of the situation. Onyx continued to cry outside the hospital, his sharp, mournful cause echoing through the night. The staff had grown increasingly irritated with the bird, dismissing him as a mere pest.

A security guard was sent to chase him away, but Onyx refused to leave. He flapped his wings angrily, his cries growing louder and more urgent. Her parents sat by Mona’s bedside, their hands trembling as they held hers.

Her mother leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter’s forehead. Please wake up, she whispered, her voice breaking. Please come back to us.

But Mona remained still, her chest rising and falling in faint, mechanical breaths. The monitors beeped steadily, a cruel reminder that her life was hanging by a thread. As the hours dragged on, her parents found themselves consumed by a mix of grief and guilt.

They replayed the past few weeks in their minds, searching for signs they might have missed. Her mother remembered how quiet Mona had become, how she had stopped smiling and laughing. Her father thought about the times she had brushed off their questions, insisting she was fine when she clearly wasn’t…