Cripple and The Starfish
Around and around, around and around turned the wheels. With that initial push that was fueled by the true strength inside of him. The strength that no one could see. He was so blind to his magnitude; his attitude was lower than the class clowns’ grades. If he could only understand that his potential reached far beyond what men saw when they looked to the sky.
The frustration ran deep within him. The thought of his potential being undiscoverable due to his impediment consumed his energy. He looked at his legs and thought to himself «Will someone ever look at me without pity?» He was not good at making friends because of this very reason. It was difficult for people not to have that immediate reaction when they saw him. He could see through their fakeness. How could he blame them? Their only thought was, «how can I stare at him without making him feel bad?» «How can I look at him without him seeing how badly I feel for him?» He lived this reality every day. He just wanted someone to live it with him.
Come up to me and ask me about this wheelchair. I’ll share my reality with you and feed your curiosity, but only through honesty.
Honesty, he thought, would be the solution to his problem. Honesty would open the gates of his chest that were sealed with iron chains and thorny rose stems. If those gates were to be opened, all of the slaves that were working so hard would be free. All of the slaves, tirelessly working for their cruel leader, Weight.
He arrived at the beach that day. The sun was preparing to tuck itself in, under its blue cover. He had been pushing his chair down the road for a while now, he was exhausted, but determined. With his mind fixed on the one solution to his problem, he pushed himself out of that chair that had been holding him back for all those years. He had been on it for so long that both his brain and body could not have been fuller of discomfort and boredom. Onto the sand he fell. White, warm and rigid. With all of the strength left in him, he started dragging the lower end of his body towards the water. For once it was the other way around. The sand tuned dark and moist, He was getting closer to the end. He was about to make his grand escape. Hopefully move onto another world. A world where he would not be held back by his misfortune. His first hand touched the water. He grabbed onto the sand as hard as he could and pulled himself further in, but when his other hand finally crossed the line between the sand and the water he felt something in his hand. He thought of letting it go and keep working on his final mission, but the texture of the object was too interesting not to look at, just as other people felt with him. He grabbed it and pulled it out of the water. At first glance, it seemed to be like rubber but after a closer look it could be seen that it was actually tough and hard. It was a starfish. A starfish with a broken ray. He looked at this starfish and though to himself: How must it feel? Not having one of its legs, being stranded in a random seashore. Does it worry about how other starfish see it? He smiled, put the broken starfish back where he found it and kept swimming.