"The Story Too Often Heard Of" by Matthew Meyer
Once there was a boy, and at age 8 he learned to fly. Higher and higher, he could escape everyone and everything around him by closing his eyes and drifting to the heavens. At age 14 he became so accustomed to flying he believed his real world was among the clouds and not among his peers. In the air, he could be who ever he wanted to be. Without abandon, he danced and sang with the angels for days on end. Then one day, his parents tied a string to his foot. With this string they told him to stay on the ground because that is where his future would lie. But when his overseers were asleep, he would sneak away to the abyss and float to where he truly belonged. The next day, he found another string tied to his foot, but this time it was from his sister. And with this string she told him that people are not supposed to fly. But when his family was asleep, he leapt to the sky and played among the clouds. He continued to do this night after night, but his strings seemed to tighten with each passing day. Then one day, his jealous friends tied strings to his feet and told him that flying was not as cool as living on earth. So when the whole town was sleep, he tried to drift up above the trees and rooftops, but this time he found it more difficult. And when he looked down at his feet, he saw that each string had multiplied. And each string had become thick chains, holding him in place.
Years passed, and with every new day, a new string was placed on his body from a family member, a classmate, or teacher. It had been ten years since he last soared through the heavens. He had forgotten what it was like to actually be free. So one day while everyone was sleeping, he focused all his energy and flew into the night sky and played among the smoke of what had become his life. He looked down at the wreckage and did not recognize his life anymore. He didn’t know where or who he had become. He couldn’t find the will to dance or sing or scream for that matter. His spirit had been crushed and molded over so many times that it had lost all of its natural shape. And so with tears in his eyes, he cut the hundreds of restraints from his body, and slowly drifted toward the rising sun.
Once there was a boy, and at age 8 he learned to fly. Higher and higher, he could escape everyone and everything around him by closing his eyes and drifting to the heavens. At age 14 he became so accustomed to flying he believed his real world was among the clouds and not among his peers. In the air, he could be who ever he wanted to be. Without abandon, he danced and sang with the angels for days on end. Then one day, his parents tied a string to his foot. With this string they told him to stay on the ground because that is where his future would lie. But when his overseers were asleep, he would sneak away to the abyss and float to where he truly belonged. The next day, he found another string tied to his foot, but this time it was from his sister. And with this string she told him that people are not supposed to fly. But when his family was asleep, he leapt to the sky and played among the clouds. He continued to do this night after night, but his strings seemed to tighten with each passing day. Then one day, his jealous friends tied strings to his feet and told him that flying was not as cool as living on earth. So when the whole town was sleep, he tried to drift up above the trees and rooftops, but this time he found it more difficult. And when he looked down at his feet, he saw that each string had multiplied. And each string had become thick chains, holding him in place.
Years passed, and with every new day, a new string was placed on his body from a family member, a classmate, or teacher. It had been ten years since he last soared through the heavens. He had forgotten what it was like to actually be free. So one day while everyone was sleeping, he focused all his energy and flew into the night sky and played among the smoke of what had become his life. He looked down at the wreckage and did not recognize his life anymore. He didn’t know where or who he had become. He couldn’t find the will to dance or sing or scream for that matter. His spirit had been crushed and molded over so many times that it had lost all of its natural shape. And so with tears in his eyes, he cut the hundreds of restraints from his body, and slowly drifted toward the rising sun.