On one random Tuesday night last February, one of the most constant figures in my life died. His name was Charlie and he was a bird, a cockatiel to be exact and I had him since I was five. He had been with me through everything and when I saw his lifeless body laying in the bottom of that cage all I could do was scream. He wasn't moving, he wasn't chirping at me to let him out, he was just gone.

This was the worst time for him to go if any. I was in constant battle with my parents about where I would attend college, my depression was at an all time high, and high school was getting more and more useless.

I remember the day he died. I had a migraine all day at school so I was sick to my stomach. School had dragged on and on and all I wanted to do was go to bed. When I finally did get home I took my pills and fell asleep for two hours. When I woke up I looked at the bird cage and noticed my other bird, Snowball was looking sad and I hadn't really seen Charlie that whole day. So I got up and made that clicking noise with my tongue and teeth that he usually answers too but I heard nothing. My heart beat a little faster and I peeked inside. At the bottom of the cage was Charlie's body with his wings spread out and his head twisted in an awkward position.

It was that night after I finished crying that I couldn't go away for college. I don't really know why I felt that way, maybe it had something to do with Charlie dying or the possibility of someone else dying. All I knew was that I need to stay close to home. At least for the next four years.

So basically I chose my college because my bird died.