The moment it happened, it felt like something inside the forest cracked.
The baby monkey had been clinging to his mother’s chest, his tiny fingers woven tightly into her fur. He felt safe there. He always felt safe there. Her heartbeat was his comfort. Her warmth was his home.
But suddenly, her body shifted.
She moved quickly—too quickly.
A loud noise had echoed through the trees, and instinct took over her muscles. She leaped to another branch without warning. In that sudden movement, the baby’s small hands slipped.
He fell.
It wasn’t far, but it felt like falling out of the world. He landed on the ground with a soft thud, stunned and confused. For a few seconds, he didn’t even cry. He just stared up at the sky, trying to understand why he wasn’t in her arms anymore.
Then fear hit.
He screamed.
A sharp, desperate cry burst from his tiny chest. He scrambled to his feet, looking wildly around him. The trees seemed taller now. The shadows darker. Everything felt unfamiliar without her warmth.
Above him, his mother paused on a branch.
For a moment, their eyes met.
The baby stretched his arms upward, crying louder, begging silently to be picked up. His legs shook as he tried to climb the tree trunk, but he was too small. He slipped and fell back down.
His cries turned into panicked sobs.
“Mom! Mom!”
But she hesitated.
The noise in the forest came again—closer this time. Fear flickered in her eyes. Survival instinct told her to move. To escape. To protect herself first.
And then she jumped away.
The baby froze in disbelief.
He watched her disappear between the branches, getting smaller and smaller until she was gone. Gone.
That was the breaking moment.
His crying became softer, more broken. He turned in circles, searching, calling, hoping she would return. Every rustle of leaves made him look up again with sudden hope.
But it was never her.
The forest felt huge and dangerous. A passing shadow made him flinch. A falling leaf made him scream. Without her, even the wind felt threatening.
He curled into a tiny ball at the base of the tree.
His small body trembled uncontrollably. His breathing came in short, shaky bursts. Tears soaked his fur. He pressed his face into his hands, as if hiding could make the fear go away.
He didn’t understand danger.
He didn’t understand instinct.
He only understood that he had been left.
Time moved slowly.
His cries became weaker, tired from calling. His throat hurt. His stomach began to ache from hunger. The fear slowly turned into quiet sadness.
Breaking 💔
Not just because he was alone.
But because he had believed she would always stay.
As the sun lowered and shadows stretched longer, the baby lifted his head one more time. His eyes searched the branches with fading hope.
He whispered a final, soft cry.
The forest gave no answer.
And in that quiet space between fear and exhaustion, a tiny heart waited—scared, confused, and still hoping that love would come back. 🐒💔
