Think of Me, and Spread your Wings

Think of Me, and Spread your Wings

Running, running, running. He is there, in my face, so close that I can almost touch him. A smile lights up his face, tiny gaps between each perfect tooth. His eyes sparkle like tiny amber fairy lights. Fairies can fly, but we can’t… I can’t. His pale hand extends forward, as if to take mine, but the more I reach out, the further he seems to be. I am trapped, rooted to the spot. My legs push hard against boggy mud as he spreads iridescent wings and gracefully flies into thick daunting clouds. Why is it always cloudy? I scream a silent scream, and fall.

Katie jolted awake, a cold sticky sweat staining her bed sheets. Everything was always grey. Except his eyes. They always sparkled amber. Her mocha-coloured eyes glistened a moment before salty tears joined the sweat stains. James – the epitome of perfection – shouldn’t have died. Why did he die?
“At least you are free,” Katie mumbled to thin air before laying her head on the sweat stained pillow. Under a sweat stained blanket. On sweat stained sheets. At three in the morning. Reality was harsh, but dreams could be worse.

God could not possibly exist, Katie thought as she wandered to her music class. Late. Again. Miss Patricia had handed out crisp white worksheets to be filled in. Question and Answer. Answer and Question. It didn’t matter. James was gone. God could not exist.

Running, running, running. He is there, in my face, so close that I can almost touch him. His auburn hair shines like pixie dust. Pixies can fly, but we can’t… I can’t. There is a carpet on the boggy mud. It is one of those antique looking purple and orange ones. It has tassels, of course. His pale hand extends forward and gestures to the carpet. We both sit and fly gracefully towards the thick, daunting clouds. I reach out to take his hand, but the carpet disappears. He smiles and flies through the clouds, with his iridescent wings. I scream a silent scream, and fall.

“Katie. Katie! MISS WALKER!” Miss Patricia yelled at the top of her lungs. The class laughed as Katie fell off the hard plastic chair. Thud. Ouch. The bell rang. Students filed out of the classroom, loudly discussing pointless weekend plans. Though no one talked to Katie. Ever. Not since James died. She was simply trapped, all alone, always running.

Once again, Katie sat in the library. In the fiction section. Titled ‘Religion’. God didn’t exist. There was no way in Hell. What an odd phrase, Katie thought, sifting through old unwanted papers. The librarian casually walked over.
“You’ve been in here almost every day for the past month, Katie. Is there anything I can help you with? Would you like to know about God?” she asked eyeing the books lovingly.
“He’s gone,” Katie replied in a small whisper. “I can never reach him, because he always flies away. I can’t fly. I’m just…”
“Trapped?” the librarian suggested. Katie nodded once.
“God doesn’t exist.”
A small frown appeared on the librarian’s face.
“I do not believe that the argument of God’s existence plays a part in this,” she said curtly. Through old, chapped lips. Straight, yellow teeth. Katie looked puzzled. The librarian sighed.
“Maybe the real question, is why will you not let yourself fly too?”

Running, running, running. He is there, in my face, so close that I can almost touch him. His iridescent wings are already perched on a pale back. I lose hope. I cannot reach him.
“Maybe the real question, is why you cannot let yourself fly?” James’ fairy light eyes and pixie dust hair suddenly shine brighter than before. The boggy mud dries up and the sun glistens on his skin as his pale hand touches mine. We soar through the hole in those daunting clouds. God’s existence is irrelevant. We soar up into an undreamed world. I am flying. We finally reach the sun. I can fly.