Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Plot Collection - 3. I have a dream
“I think I can fly.”
I want to fly. I believe I can fly. I have a dream, a goal. Flying is the one thing I wish to achieve in my life.
I was told young that flying wasn’t possible for humans. My mom told me this more than once, Dad too. However, my brother, Spark, believed in me and my strength. So I kept on dreaming.
Sitting here on the pier, watching the boats float by, I wonder about my life. Maybe I’m a floater, not a flyer. Maybe I was actually meant to drift by, like the dinghy, the bow cutting through the water. A lone wooden pot in an endless lake of nothingness. Left tied, until a merciful soul would release me and use me for which purpose I was created.
I stand up, throw a glance towards the old man in the little boat with the fishing pole. No, that is definitely not the life for me. I turn around and leave, nothing will come off of giving in to melancholy. Dejection will get one nowhere.
“You look sad?” Fate sit down across from me; we’d agreed to eat lunch together yesterday. Fate and I are fairly good friends even though she sometimes throws stuff at me, for which I am not prepared. I start to answer, but as usual I realize too late she brought Karma. I curse inwardly, but my dismay must show on my face, because Karma give me an evil smirk. With Fate around we’re usually pretty cool, but I avoid being alone with her, when only the two of us she’s a total bitch.
“I am starting to doubt myself,” I say.
“Hay lads”. Will pop up from out of nowhere. “What’s up?”
“Aim is having doubts,” Fate answers.
“He’s being a total wimp, that’s what,” Karma comment.
“You can do it, Mate. Cheer up.” That’s Will to you, supportive as always.
I visit Mom and Dad to tell them that I’m going through with my dream, in hope they will cheer for me.
I stop beside the bush of yellow roses and look down at the grey, slanting stone. From this angle I easily read the inscription:
Here lies Depression & Failure (14.09.1995)
Despite all hardships, still beloved mother and father.
May they both rest in peace.
“Mom, Dad… I hope you can support my decision from your place in heaven. And if not; I can only hope that you will forgive me for doing so anyway.” I crouch down, place two fingers on my lips before pressing them against the cold gravestone.
Standing atop the cliff looking over the world, I feel the threads of fear creeping in on me. Will I actually fly in the end? I step to the edge and look down; the clouds have pooled around the ledge like at foggy blanket. Maybe I will just bounce off on it if I fail.
“Aim, you can do it, I believe in you.” It feels like Spark is standing right beside me.
It is my dream to fly. Like an eagle. I believe I can fly, I want to fly.
“I know I can fly.”
And then I jump.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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