Wings

By Ryan Chao

Fly. 

Soar into the night sky; you have wings, you know. 

Breathe in the cool night air; you are free, you know. 

Leave the past; go to the future; you still have a future, you know. 

Feel the last of the rocky cliffside and dive into the unknown

Two figures, one larger and one very small stand near the jagged edge of the mountain. They are as unstable in the howling wind as the few trees that dare to grow in this remote setting. The larger figure takes the young one’s hand and leads her closer to the precipice. She speaks softly and calmly, but with an edge lurking beneath the surface of her speech.

You are there. Wish upon a star. 

You are young, you know, not like me. See the valley; see the clear, still water

not far below; see whatever you can see, with your young eyes in the darkness. 

Spread your wings. 

It's time to change your life.

It’s time to join the stars. But I’m not ready.

My wings have grown stiff from years without hope

and are shackled to this unforgiving land.

But, … You are young

You are ready to fly

You are ready to ascend

As you leave, 

take in the world around you. See what lies in the valley below, that we never had—that I will never have, but you will.You will keep the hope

I lost.

Take a deep breath. I can’t breathe; I'm going to fall. 

You need to take the leap. But what will happen, ma? 

I— 

Look into my eyes, child. 

Trust. 

What will happen next, ma? Where will I go? I—

I DON’T KNOW! DON’T ASK ME THESE QUESTIONS. I—I—

Please … step away from this rocky mountainside; step away from the tiny cottage where I raised you alone, drinking dirty well-water, foraging for food—We have no food! We have nothing. All I want is—

I don’t know…

I don’t know! What happens next? I can’t see, I can’t, I can’t— 

I don’t want to lose you, ma. 

I—

I don’t know myself. I don’t—

I'm losing you.

I—

I 

see 

you

Come here child. 

Hold my hand. I’m here. I’m here. 

Ma, I—

I love you. I can’t—I’m so sorry; I don’t know how. I love you so much. Ma, don’t leave me!

I am here! 

I am here! 

I am …

here? 

Everything remains the same. The land is unforgiving: harsh and empty. Gusts of wind whip around the two figures who remain on the edge of the mountain. One is tall and graceful; she carries a melancholy stillness of the mountains. Meanwhile, her gaze fiercely pierces the night sky. The other figure lies slumped with resignation, grimacing in pain from the thin, twin scars on her back. 

All remains dark. 

They finally turn to face each other.

Wake up. 

Come back please. You are going to fall. 

The cliffside is tall. 

The water is turbulent. 

The crisp night air bites our throats. 

The darkness is dangerous. 

Our wings are made of wax. 

The stars illuminate the shadows of our souls. 

Visions distort 

reality

Please.

My daughter, you have grown so much. 

It was just yesterday when you were a child. 

Ma, you have been walking half-asleep for a decade. It is time to wake up. We will be okay.

Okay. I—