Many, many years ago ...
The little blue peacock sat up jerkily in his bed. There was a sound. A thud. It came from his parents' room. The boy looked around. It was dark, only the moon shone through a window and gave some cold light in his child's room in the palace.
Again a noise. This time it sounded like hands hammering on the floor, but then they became weaker and weaker. Quickly, the child left his bed and ran to the next door, where the sleeping room of his parents was behind. He listened. Someone groaned in pain, followed closely by a cough.
The little blue peacock chick reached for the door handle with his little wing, which was a little lower than the normal doorknob on the other side. It was made especially for him so that he could get into his parents' room more easily if he ever had a bad dream. He opened the door a crack. It was dark in the room of his parents. A shadow wandered around beside the bed, leaning over something on the floor.
The peacock child pushed the door open and entered. "Mom? Dad?"
The shadow turned to him. The blue peacock cub rubbed his eyes and looked at the figure. It was a peahen. Her purple black plumage shimmered slightly in the faint moonlight. She stood there and stared at the peacock child.
The blue peacock's eyes widened. A dark liquid was dripping onto the floor. The peahen swung her wings and a long piece of metal flashed briefly below. In the moonlight, he recognized the dark red color.
"Mom? What happened?"
He craned his neck, looking for the shadow that lay on the floor next to the bed and didn't move.
The peahen walked up to him. Slowly and quietly like an ominous ghost. The little blue peacock didn't move and looked up at her with frightened eyes.
"Mom?" He breathed in a choked voice. "What happened to dad?"
The peahen stopped in front of him. The light of the faint moon made the liquid glisten on the knife and on the tips of her fingerfeathers. Then she smiled. The smile of a warm-hearted mother, but the peacock boy felt cold. The darkness in her eyes made him tremble. But she laughed and raised a fingerfeather to her beak lips.
"Shhhh...," she whispered mysteriously. "Your father is sleeping."
But the little blue peacock knew: his father was dead.
You can also read the Spanish version by Dr_Psiquiatra here: https://www.wattpad.com/1145668356-%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%A5-%F0%9D%90%AE%CC%81%F0%9D%90%A5%F0%9D%90%AD%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%A8-%F0%9D%90%A1%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%A7%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%AB-%F0%9D%90%80%F0%9D%90%9C%F0%9D%90%A5%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%AB%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%9C%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%A8%CC%81%F0%9D%90%A7
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