Fallen Angel
I remember my throat had stung like I had swallowed a thousand knives. I kept running regardless and as fast as my feet could carry me. “Fly,” I whispered, willing myself. “Fly… fly… let me fly.” It was a silly wish for I knew I hadn’t learned to fly yet. My long dark hair billowed out behind like a flock of startled ravens. I scanned the playground and spied a group of large cement tubes near the swing set. Dashing inside the furthest one, I moved to the center. I tucked my tiny feet close and rested my chin on my knees. Outside the sanctuary it began to rain. Tears streamed down from my piercing blue eyes to my rosy cherub cheeks. I heard a sound and looked up. The footsteps were approaching.
A boy with curly dirt brown hair poked his devious face inside. “Olly Olly oxen free, I found you!” The boy screeched. His wild eyes danced triumphantly. He reached inside with his grubby fingers. He clutched my arm and dragged me out into the mud. My elbows and knees throbbed in the rain, raw from being dragged across the gritty cement. I tried to lunge at him, beating my fists in the air. But the curly haired boy pushed me back down. He jumped up on the cement tube, towering like a wicked king. The other boys and girls, who had just left the school, huddled around us laughing and jeering. The boy king howled and said to the crowd, “My Pa says all freaks like her should be burned!” The children giggled nervously, not quite knowing what to make of his little speech. Neither did I.
I lay in the mud. I looked up into his eyes and screamed, “Why won’t you leave me alone! Why do you hate me so much!” He crouched down pulling a lighter close and then flicked on the flame. “Because you’re not like us. I know everything about you,” he said darkly. In retaliation I spit in his face, but he then reached down ripping the back of my new soft blue shirt. White and tan feathered wings unfolded and sprouted forth, almost glowing with brilliance in the gloom. He wasted no time and tried to light my feathers on fire. The world seemed to blur and spin into an uncontrollable dervish. Then suddenly, all my senses came to and I ran. Some of the teachers ran out of the building to see what was all the commotion. They will never know. Many years have passed and not a word has been spoken of that day. And no one will remember me, because I ran through the crowd of stunned faces, down the street of identical houses and perfect lawns. I left with no intention of looking back. I came from nowhere.
I now gaze at the sky. Today too looks like it’s going to rain. It is a spiral of a painter’s pallet. Color smeared with gray and subtle drips of gold. The thunder too was determined to bring unwanted chaos. But for this moment I relished the peace and didn’t care about what would happen next. What I wanted most seemed too far out of my reach. Like a smug jester dancing around with a golden ball held high in the air, taunting you to take it. Whenever I’ve found happiness it always presented itself in a blink of an eye and then the golden ball is taken from my cupped hands like it wasn’t even supposed to be given at all. What is so important I know you are asking, to torture yourself with blind obsession. I know for each person it differs. But I long for nothing else but to live, in every sense of the word, without fear.
I now ride an escalator down to the subway station and where I hear a rich Irish song being played by a violinist. Her case was open and holds a few dollars amongst the red velvet. I stood for a moment to enjoy the haunting melody and then walked through the turnstile.
Some people have called me an angel, and others have called me a freak. I prefer gifted, though perhaps that is just wishful thinking. I was born a plain girl with extraordinary wings like that of a sparrow. When I was that small frightened girl I had run away from a cruel people, to then be held captive to a bright orange and red striped tent.
Eventually one day I came across a circus. They were setting up their enormous tents and carnival rides along the dusty field. I was entranced by the exotic animals from far away lands and the vibrant showy costumes that sparkled like diamonds. Characters of all sort bustled by. Terribly strong weightlifters, fortune tellers, acrobats, clowns, fat women, short men, women that looked like men. I had thought perhaps I had finally come home. Entry was no problem, my wings were the golden ticket.
That day I was stripped and displayed in a cage like a monster. “Behold the bird girl!” Shouted the Ringmaster to the gaping crowd. “A creature of mystery! Such a find only this very circus could tame!” A hairy tattooed man threw popcorn at me threw the bars, beckoned me to peck at it and laughed with a menace. Children looked at me with fear. Women whispered and called me a fake. I hated them. I hated how they looked at me and judged me. How they laughed and pointed in their arrogant way. Then the crowd had slowly dispersed. Humiliated I fled once again. I didn’t get very far. I reached ten feet when the Ringmaster, a stout old man with a scar across his left cheek, grabbed me by the wing. “Where do you think your running off to girl? If you leave you’ll be lying dead in a gutter within an hour.” “I don’t want to work for you anymore,” I said venomously. “What?” He asked amused, “Are you feeling sorry for yourself? Well don’t. No one was to blame here but the monster whom displays itself. Stop glaring. You’re mine now. We’ll see about getting those wings clipped to.” He then strode away, coins jingling in his pockets. So I stayed with the circus for many more years. Mostly because I was too afraid of the cruel world beyond its spectacular canvas and chipped painted trailers. These people were at least misfits like me and I felt safe. They indeed taught me a lot about life and of performing for the entertainment of the spectator. I slowly found a place among them, but I had an empty heart.
The train came to a stop and I climbed out. Wrapped around my neck was a green and yellow knit scarf too long, but warm, given to me by the bearded lady named Joe. It was my only comfort as I venture forth into the world that terrifies me. I furrowed my brow with determination. Among its strangers and oddities perhaps I would let it take me in like the circus had. I heard that in this city there are shoe shiners, women who wear kimonos, side walk entertainers, marching transvestites, crazy people, daring people, characters that give normality courage to be more than what society shapes it into.
To my surprise the clouds wept a light snowfall. Maybe its crystal tears were for me. Before long everything was a beautiful white as I walk silently near a playground like that of my haunted past. Icicles had formed along the monkey bars and the snow transformed the wooden towers into a winter castle. I decided to make a snow angel next to the cement tubes. I laughed a little as I stood up to look at my work and closed my eyes. If you listen carefully you can hear each individual and unique snowflake touch the earth. And so I listened. Those snowflakes only grace the world once and are never the same. It’s similar to my story in a way that I want to be heard. I want to make an impression on this earth. I was going to grab that golden ball or I was going to kill the jester. I didn’t want to be afraid. I wanted to live. I wanted to fly…
heart
View User's Journal
Where's the Adventure? Oh, Right here? okay then... heart
 |
