It's raining outside

I was standing on my balcony, it was about four in the morning, the sky was almost purple with just a little bit of the sun beginning to rise. At that moment I felt like everything around me was under my control because there was not a single sound, not a movement. Only my presence in a building in the sky. This was the closest I had ever felt to god in a long time. There was a time when I thought of myself to be god yet realised differently after a bit of thought. I looked up in the sky and saw clouds move in fast, faster than I had seen clouds form ever before. The sounds of thunderclaps have cleared the silence, and my presence felt less important to me than earlier. The lightning made the purple sky seem dull in comparison. I got a text from my neighbour saying, “It’s raining outside.” I didn’t pay attention to it because it was something I was seeing right before my eyes.

The sound of the thunder felt like a song, the lightning felt like a calculated pattern, the raindrops were of an exact number, an equal force. It felt like a calculated music composition instead of the simple fact of raining outside. That’s when I heard the voice in my head, “Fly!” A faint whisper as if it was a voice I wasn’t supposed to hear. “Fly!” there it was again. Another voice in my head told me to do something. This voice wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t fighting with my emotions; it wasn’t against me. It simply asked one thing of me, “flight”.

The voices in my head usually did want what was best for me, so I had no reason not to believe this one. I stood on the railing, ready to take the leap. It was possibly one of the worst decisions of my life, but what did it matter anyway. I took a step further, and as I fell towards the ground, I felt wings grow out of my back. Not just any wings, wings like those on an eagle. I could control them; I could move them around. I could fly. The voice took over, the wings were my support. The wings took me through the night. The wings took me through the night.

The rain got harder, the thunder got louder, the lighting got brighter but my wings did not falter one bit. They got stronger, helped me push through the night. I went everywhere I wanted; I flew higher than the clouds. Above everything. It felt like a dream, something that wasn’t real. Something that was only happening in my head. On the other hand, it felt so real, I could feel each feather, the end of each tip, each skin cell on the wing was mine. The power that I had with the wings was nothing compared to anything else I had ever felt before.

I never wanted to return to the ground. I never wanted to think of myself as someone that was just the same as others, because I wasn’t, and I knew it long ago. I flew with the flock of eagles like they were my own. They felt like my family. Not a word, not expressions or looks exchanged. Yet that was what I felt closest to. I sat on top of the tallest tree in the forest, giving myself the crown of the king. I didn’t need to ask anyone, at the moment I owned it.

I was racing cheetahs and defeating them. Flying food out of the lion’s mouth. The soon w had risen enough now, it was bright in the morning. But the rain did not stop. It was pouring. With each drop, my feathers got bigger, stronger. It felt like I had drunk ten cans of red bull. So, I decided to test myself. I took a jump, a jump higher than before. I tried to reach the highest I could. I flapped my wings. Moved my arms. I crossed the clouds. I crossed everything I had known to exist.

I thought I could reach the sun, I thought I could go the distance, but my wings stopped flapping. They stopped moving at my command. they were fading, dying almost. As if they didn’t have blood reaching them. I started falling. I fell faster then I flew up and as I crossed the clouds back, I realised. It wasn’t raining anymore. My fall wasn’t slowing down. My wings were disappearing until they were not there anymore.

I was only a moment away from the end of my fall to death, as I realised. My wings were only present to keep me flying in the rain. They only gave me the power to withstand what was pushing down on me. If I wanted to go above what I was, I had to do it without the wings. I had to do it myself.