The baby monkey froze when he saw his mother’s face.
Her eyes were sharp, her body stiff, every movement filled with tension. She was not gentle now. The warmth he once knew was gone, replaced by something cold and frightening. The baby’s small heart began to race.
He didn’t understand why she was angry.
All he had done was cry.
His stomach hurt from hunger, and fear made his chest feel tight. He crawled closer to her, reaching out with shaky hands, hoping she would pull him in like before. His mouth opened, calling softly for her.
But she snapped.
A loud warning sound burst from her throat. She bared her teeth slightly, not biting, but enough to scare him deeply. The baby jumped back in shock, falling onto the ground. His eyes widened, filled with terror.
He was afraid of his own mother.
His body trembled as he sat there, frozen. Tears rolled down his face, but he tried not to cry too loudly. Crying made her angrier. He had learned that already.
The mother paced back and forth on the branch above him. Her tail flicked sharply. Her movements were restless, impatient. She looked down at him again, her expression hard, as if his presence annoyed her.
The baby felt confused.
Why was love gone?
Why did safety turn into fear?
He hugged himself tightly, trying to be small, trying not to exist. Every sound she made made him flinch. When she jumped closer, he screamed without meaning to. The scream echoed, thin and desperate.
That made her angrier.
She lunged forward just enough to frighten him, not to touch him. The baby rolled backward, crying loudly now, unable to stop. His fear spilled out in broken sobs. His tiny body shook uncontrollably.
He wanted to run to her.
He wanted to run away from her.
Both feelings crashed inside his small chest at the same time.
The mother stopped suddenly. She stood still, breathing hard. For a moment, she looked at him—really looked at him. The baby stared back through tears, his face full of fear and hope mixed together.
But the softness never came.
She turned away.
That hurt more than the anger.
Being ignored felt heavier than being scared. The baby cried quietly now, his voice weak and tired. He crawled to the edge of the tree trunk and sat there alone, watching her back as she faced the forest.
He was afraid to move.
Afraid to speak.
Afraid to ask for love again.
The forest felt huge and unsafe. Every sound felt like danger. The baby pressed his hands to his chest, as if trying to hold his heart together.
His mother stayed nearby—but emotionally far away.
That was the cruelest part.
Not being chased.
Not being bitten.
But being close enough to see her—and still not being loved.
The baby monkey sat in fear and confusion, his world broken into sharp pieces. He didn’t know what he had done wrong. He only knew that the one who should protect him was the one he feared most.
And that made the moment unbearably pitiful. 💔🐒
