Perfect (Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter 3.75: On Air, Flying

Chapter 3.75: On Air, Flying

              Life walks in as hard as it could. It is unfair. It is unprofessional. Sometimes, I think of what I will be the future than of what I am in the past. No matter what, gravity pulls me, gravity restrains me. I looked only of the person I wanted to become, the things I wanted to change. I forgot of who I am now and what I did already. I wanted to fly. I wanted to soar high. To be with the birds is one of my dreams. But living a life of misery thought me something. If I cannot fly, I will never be… but, I can always watch from below where the river flows peacefully and remind me of something that was left in the attic long time ago. Now, I see myself and standing in front of my reflection, I can say: This is me.

              …

              “1! 2! 3! 4! Let’s go team all on the floor!” a symmetrical pyramid of human beings shouted rhythmically as the radiance shone through tiny slits in their formation.

              A cerulean scarf peeked behind the white yet impure bleachers facing the perfect formation. It just swayed there indefinitely as the breeze dances with it. It was wrapped on the metalwork and danced indefinitely.

              Flying above brings benefits, inevitable as we sit down below. Wide view of the world, superiority, and others are just the outlines of the social pyramid.

              People up above, flying takes a good view of things underneath. Somewhat, they fly conditionally as the winds shift to their desire, making the others flow with the gale; higher, the better, more superior, the merrier. Some people aim to fly, all of us aim to soar. We want to be like birds and anything that can feel the breeze and reach the peak of the atmosphere where we can never be shot nor targeted. Some think the logic is flying, defying the thing we call gravity. In opposition with this, we think of nothing as we go up, until all we see is pure emptiness; nothing to see as we bow nothing to see as we glance, pure empty space.

              “The orphan!” a cheerleader shouted on the bottom right of the pyramid and lost her own balance for the perfect symmetry.

              A series of rhythmic cries followed the imbalance that lead to further damage. The tall and perfect pyramid now crashed and disbanded like a messy stack of matches. As each student dressed in a cerulean cheerleading outfit held their heads, the top cheerleader lay still above the ever verdant Bermuda grass.

              “Sara?” The was silence. “Sara!” a cheerleader cried as she shook the life out of Sara. Sara’s motionless body lay still as it swayed in accord with the cheerleader’s motion.

              Serena rushed and grabs Sara’s hand, carrying her by her shoulders.

              “What are you doing?!” a cheerleader asked hysterically as she pulled Serena by her shoulder, leaving Sara’s arm fall by. “Where are you taking her?!”

              Serena didn’t respond to her question. She’s oblivious to outer frequencies that tried to stop her now. She found a friend in a foe. The person who valued her grace beyond the things that considered her as someone she was never been, laid still on her shoulder and depended on her strength. She continued walking out the field as she lifted Sara’s body with all her feminine strength to let it not drag grass beneath their feet.

              We can never fly to the extent of our desire. We can’t soar as long as we wanted till no one can see us and we see nothing more as well. On air, we fly, we soar, we reminisce…but living in the world where gravity is necessary, I guess nothing is more important than go fly along with it.