The tiny baby monkey sat helplessly under the warm sunlight, his small body trembling as he let out a heartbreaking c-r.y. His soft eyes were filled with tears, searching desperately for comfort from his mother. Each time he tried to reach her, hoping for the familiar warmth of milk and love, she turned away, rejecting him with a cold glance. The baby’s little hands clung to her fur, but the mother pushed him aside, leaving him confused and in pain.
His tiny face twisted with sadness, and his voice echoed across the forest, s-c.r.e.a.m.i.n.g for care that never came. The sound of his cries pierced the quiet surroundings, drawing the attention of nearby monkeys who watched with pity. The baby didn’t understand why his mom refused him—why she no longer wanted to feed or hold him. His hunger grew stronger, his energy weaker, yet his heart still longed for her affection.
At moments, he tried crawling closer, hoping she would change her mind. He pressed his little head against her belly, but she pushed him away again. The rejection was too much for his fragile heart. Tears streamed down his tiny cheeks as he s-c.r.e.a.m.ed once more, trembling from exhaustion and despair.
The mother sat silently, perhaps too tired, too stressed, or unaware of her baby’s suffering. But the little one didn’t know that. All he felt was loneliness and coldness where love used to be. His cries faded slowly into soft whimpers, his small body curling up on the ground, still waiting—still hoping—that someday his mother would remember him, lift him gently, and let him drink the milk he so desperately needed.
