John landed on a beach. He found a girl sitting on the sand, hugging her knees. Her ocean blue eyes cried sad tears. The dark mark of sunlight on her skin, naked feet, so small, so fragile. Dirty piece of clothes was sticking on her sweaty body. She was rocking back and forth, her mouth mumbling, “I want to have a home.”
“I want to have a home,” John repeated. And then he flew again, above the sea and passed another beach.
He landed on the roof of a house. Through the window he saw a teenage boy lying in his bed, headphones on both of his ears. The teenager’s arms were covered by tattoos of a raven, a dragon, and a bunch of other figures and shapes. It was obvious that he dyed his hair black. His pale body was clothed in black t-shirt and tight, dark-coloured jeans. John caught a few words coming from the teenager’s mouth when he was singing the lyrics of a song he was listening to. “…someone to lend their shoulder…”
“Someone to lend their shoulder,” John repeated. And then he flew again, above the houses and through the grey clouds.
He arrived at a small town in a very hot and dry part of the globe. A boy was sitting on the sidewalk while counting coins. He was only wearing a pair of brown shorts, the only cloth that covered his dark skin. People who were wearing more clothing than he was walked passed by him and only a few of them threw him money. From his left hand to his right, he put the coins he had been given. Between the clinking sounds of falling coins, he muttered, “I wish people could see that I need to eat.”
“I wish people could see that I need to eat,” John repeated. And then he flew again, above the town and into a hospital.
He entered one of the rooms through an open window. A woman was lying in the bed, her eyes were open, but looked empty. Intravenous lines connected a bag of transparent fluid to her body, with a needle at the end injected through her skin. Her body was a mere skeleton that was covered by skin, without any flesh being in between. Her mouth then moved a little bit when she said, “I still want to live.”
“I still want to live,” John repeated. And then he flew again.
But wait, he heard something. He was trying to reach to the sound when suddenly…
“I love you, son,” a gentle voice was caught by John’s ears, pausing his flight and put him back into where he belonged. A beautiful woman, wearing a very simple yet elegant lavender dress, was stroking John’s hair the second he sat back onto his bed. Faint wrinkles were seen on the skin around her eyes and cheeks when she smiled. She looked so calm, but a flash of sadness were shown through her hazel eyes. She then kissed his forehead and walked out of the room.
John was in a hospital, a mental hospital. He realized it, but couldn’t do or say anything that would help him prove to anyone that he was still sane. He recognized her mother, understood her words and her heart-breaking expressions. He noticed his surroundings, and sensed everything very well. But he just couldn’t help it. His mind wouldn’t stop extending and reaching out to the outside, while his mouth couldn’t stop repeating every word that he heard from the people he encountered.
He was sick of being like that, of hearing and seeing the bitterness of the world, discovering hundreds of devastated lives, while at the same time couldn’t do anything about it. He wished he couldn’t feel those people’s pain. He wished he was just as numb as the other patients in that mental hospital. And he was angry, and sad, and frustrated. He missed his old life, the one where he was still as healthy as a rational human being could ever be.
So he tried to block his mind’s routes, created huge obstacle that hampered his flight. He succeeded, only for a few seconds. But in those few seconds he managed to say his own words after a long time of being only able to repeat other people’s words.
“I… want to erase the pain.”
But then he flew again, above a green hill and onto a mountain slope.