FLIP-SIDE

121

When I was a child, wild and innocent and feather-light: I remember seeing a mockingbird and blue jay fight. It was cruel and bloody--but I couldn't tear my eyes away, because something about the violence was beautiful.

I never saw who won that fight, I couldn't stay to watch. But somehow, somewhere deep inside my heart--I knew neither bird won. They both had lost something.

I was too young to realize how this would predict the future. I was a mockingbird, and you were a bluejay. We fought all the time, and it was vicious and terrifyingly lovely. And sometimes it felt that you had won or I had won--but neither of us ever had victory, really. We both kept tearing the pieces of our souls apart, and throwing away the mess.

Do you remember when you told me that you were jealous of me? I laughed when you said that, because why would the Sun be jealous of the moon?  Besides, mockingbirds only imitate another bird's song. I don't know why you'd be jealous of that.

But then I remembered a quote, from To Kill a Mockingbird, that read like this:

"Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."

I guess you were jealous that it would be a sin to kill me, but you were unprotected. The world is full of sinners, though, who have shot at mockingbirds. You killed one, too. Me. Then again, maybe I deserved it. After all, I shot at you all I wanted.

I rarely see bluejays now. I'm not sure where they all went, maybe they flew away when your soul seeped into the cracks of the earth and disappeared into the afterlife.

Someone told me that if I was a bird, I'd be a bluejay. But I know I could never be you, and I don't think I'd want to be you. There's something magnificent in the passionate tint of your feathers. You were always the type of bird that people wanted to watch. I was just a grey little mockingbird, and no one liked to hear my singing.