Whatever your plan for me was, the trial that is put upon me is an excruciating pain and a massive burden. Walking, rather enduring, the thorny path is crueler than the crucifixion. Why did you place me in the world of sorrow? These two potentials that you placed on my back are not mere human fantasies. They are not mighty enough to carry me. Icarus Fell. What fate is destined for me? Hear me and answer me, my creator.
It was one of those cold winter nights when Melek attempted to laugh like others. It took sixteen years (his whole lifetime and the number which he believes will make someone a mature man) for him to learn that there is no one around him when he cries. A tiny bit of consolation, that he was in a search for a prolonged time, could be found in a bursting laughter, most likely an empty one. This time of the year was the only season when Melek appreciated his white, large things on his back. They allowed him to be a part of the white snow and kept him warm and cozy. Indeed, he was pure like falling, untouched snow. Freezing snow and wind replied to his vacant laughter. Isolated from people in the street, dim lights of buildings, and loud noises, lots of noises, he stood alone.
The city was busy and crowded: mechanical apparatus. People walked in and out of the buildings. Melek saw them as ants crawling in and out of their holes. He knew that is what most people with grey eyes do in the cities like this: crawling on the ground getting in and getting out. He thought whatever they do inside, it must be something worthwhile and admirable. He did not necessarily like the place where he had been staying, but he stayed. After all, it was ok.
He tried; he tried desperately to be a member of tribal society. He wanted to do estimable works in the building like the others. Nevertheless, he had to be able to get in and out from buildings, to be the part of it. Never know why he was always rejected. People always shook their heads staring at his things. It hurts him a bit; but, it was ok.
The reality that Melek was an unwelcomed individual in the city was doubtless. He did not deny it like a kid; he was a grown, mature man. He wanted to fly. Moving his things slowly, he elevated himself into the sky.
“I am ok,” he whispered as he took off.
The sky was fiercely cold but ironically peaceful. No sound could be heard in the space. Everything was small. Even the humongous skyscrapers were flat from his viewpoint. People moved like ants under him. The lights coming out from the buildings were unnaturally bright. He held up his head. Warm lights from shining stars fell on his face. Feeling muzzy, he suddenly realized that he was not one of the crawling ants below him nor was one of those beautiful stars shining above him.
Melek decided to find someone to talk to. He never knew where to go and whom to talk to, but the things led him. Yes, his things knew everything that was going to happen. Moving gently and carefully in the air, he saw a girl with messy clothes on the street. She was staring at the dark sky with a vacant look. ‘Perhaps she is an unwelcome too,’ he thought. It was an unnatural thing for him to talk to someone. However, Melek set his feet on the ground and carefully approached to her. After all, he was an adult who makes decisions by himself.
“I once read that star lights we see now are lights from several years ago,” Melek said. “At this moment when we are looking at that light, the place where the star is located might be full of darkness.”
“At this moment when we are looking at that light, the place where the star is located might be full of darkness.”
“Things we think exist may not exist in reality,” said Melek.
“I know aliens live on those stars,” She replied still staring at the space.
“And I would prefer to meet one of them,” she added.
Melek did not know how to respond so he kept his silence.
Her name was Pulchria. Together they talked everything they knew about the “Above World.” Sky, constellations, and space denoted their subjects. They did not have to go in or get out of the buildings; they had plenty of time to talk. They set horizontal to each other and talked about the “Above World.”
As their conversation progressed, Melek suddenly noticed something about Pulchria’s eyes. They were blue. It was not the blue that people see in everyday life, however. It was not the blueness of an ordinary woman’s scarf, of the computer monitor, of any object in this world. It was better than that: deep, mesmerizing, and unique. Melek’s eyes were looking at her eyes straight across. The blue light from her eyes created a sight which was more exquisite than any other lights he saw.
“Your eyes are blue!” Melek shouted in excitement.
“Yes, I know that my things are blue,” Pulchria replied in a void.
From that queer night, they began to accompany each other. Eyes existed as a pair. Wings existed as a pair. Melek and Pulchria also existed as a pair.
One day, they went to a park together. It was still cold but the sun was out. It was a good day to take a walk. The park was very empty. Melek thought it was weird that in this huge and populated city how people always had their set destinations. Besides those places, no one wanted or even tried to explore other places. Vacancy of the park started to be filled with thoughts and conversations of Melek and Pulchria as they moved their feet.
“Remember when you first came flying to me?” asked Pulchria as she walked. “You had those wings flapping on your back. I was quite surprised because I thought you were an alien from another star.”
That was the moment. Something broke inside of him. His wings shivered with fear. White feathers fell on the ground. Melek saw Pulchria’s lips moving slowly but he could not hear what she was saying. The light that he saw in her eyes faded away. It was very hurtful. Melek flew away moving his wings as fast as he could.
Whenever Melek felt lonesome, he came to the dark backstreet of the city. Just like the park, it was not frequently used place. It was a perfect place for him to think and reflect on things. He could hear the singing of a choir in the church nearby. He could see the red light of the cross from where he was seated. He always thought that red light was not pretty. The aggressiveness of it was even worse than light from the buildings. A sense of betrayal and desire for something mixed inside of his heart; ambivalent emotion arose. A sharp stone was on the ground.
“How many times have you been kicked by people in this city?” Melek asked the stone.
There wasn’t any answer. So, he kept his silence.
He needed to do something. He picked up the stone.
It is painful My hands move slowly and carefully Red Blood running profusely on my back Feathers falling apart I have to do it No tears, I am a grown man I have to do it It is not painful but hurtful Not OK They will disappear if I endure this short moment I do not, do not want to be an alien from another star I am old enough to make my own decisions One is done It was a pair but no more Blood is all over my back Buildings Lights and sounds or noises Ants crawling on the ground Starlight Blue light Eyes Things gone Forever gone
When Melek woke up in the street, it was a snowing night again. Piercing wind blew and he did not have anything that could keep him warm. He tried to laugh, but he couldn’t when he realized that there was no wing which once led him to Pulchria. He groaned instead. Blue light faded away in front of him and now it was broken, broken into little pieces and scattered. The pieces were too dim to shine up space.
Melek entered into a building. Fortunately, no one stopped him. No one stared at him. He went up and up without stopping, climbing up all the steps, one by one with his feet. The door was opened and he was on the rooftop of the building. He looked down and the distance between him and the ground seemed endlessly far away.
Melek’s shoulder blades were itchy. A star in the dark canvas had the same blue light as Pulchria’s eyes’. ‘Only if I could reach that star,’ he thought. Without any hesitation, he jumped from the top of the building. Melek didn’t know whether he was taking off or falling down. But one thing was obvious, at the moment, he was a spotless snowflake, one of many, white and clean.