Birds of passage depend on the earth's magnetism to reach to north.
Adventurers explore the world following a compass’s indication.
The attraction of gravity pulls an apple to the center of the Earth.
While living in this world surrounded by pullers, it is not easy to realize the
way the compass is pulled to the North Pole physically. The same goes for the
way people are drawn to Earth－but I knew how I had been gravitated by some
invisible attractions at one time.
Skills. Everyone might have some “skill”
for each. The ability to run fast, to read a lot, to play the piano beautifully,
and mine was just the ability to learn quickly, while noticing the process. It
was not because I was seeking to require the sense with my interests, but to
live. I obtained the skill of crying instantaneously at the moment I had
been born into this world; it was because I needed to breathe. I noticed my fear
emerged in my mind; it helped me with escaping from a danger of darkness. I even
determined to bring out the first word by myself; I needed to tell when I wanted
to fulfill my hunger. The invisible attractions for the little baby became a
direction to hold my life. I learned the ability to live as soon as possible. It
lasted until I entered the institution that destroyed children's individuality
and their meritorious ideas.
Rule, order, humility, and accommodativeness: they
dominated me living on this tiny planet. I still remembered the moments when I
had the sense of my brain’s growth process, even now. It was because the
unforgettable experiences were too astonishing, too exhilarating, and too
fascinating.
But now? High school? I was not sure where I was going to next.
No one would accept my excuse even if I said my lost docity was caused by the
previous institutions. Instead, people might say I was just out of line for a
student. I got confused with the situation that I could not rely on my past
skill of learning soon. It used to lead me accurately, cheerfully, and
confidentially. But the ability had gone, like it rested its hand forever. It
left me looking for the next way desperately. I wanted to escape from the
darkness and hunger with my unclear future.
My room was dark with the
gray plain curtains closed at the two windows and no lights on the ceiling. I
pulled the blanket in black over my head on a bed. My thatch short hair became
untidier in the separated cave. The key on the door － locked. The desk telephone next to my
pillow － disconnected. The cellphone under the
bed － out of juice…I made sure there were no means of
access to the outside world.
I didn’t remember how long I had been
barricading myself inside of my room. I felt I heard my mother’s sob at a
kitchen downstairs. It might have been a true that my father heaved a groan,
thinking about my future. With the compass that was my talent to survive the
cradle, I had no ability to stand alone. Without the compass that should have
led me a certain way, I had a desire to walk forward by my foot. I opened my
eyes in the blanket. (Sure, still the caligo lasted.) Then I had a private
chuckle about the irony of my life.
――A locomotive's whistle announced that it was five o’clock p.m. I was listening to the sound of the evening for a moment. But then I felt the whistle was too long. I let my head out from the space full of carbon dioxide and turned out. I got out of bed and moved my bare feet to the floor. After trailing toward the windows, I pulled open the curtains to look outside. The sound stopped then. Alternatively, I saw the sun about to be setting. There was the nostalgic atmosphere, the slowly-running time, and the color of the glow of evening. I almost forgot that I was in an apartment at the busy city, Tokyo. I heard a cry of bird in a bit further sky and found it soaring in the sunset. I was gazing the migratory wildfowl for a long time.
Then I remembered the
compass on my closet near the door on a sudden. I used it only once at the age
of eight. I went camping at a river one hour far from my house. But the memory
was not quite fun at all. My father scolded me, blaming my mimic adventure when
I was back on the next day. Since then, the compass had nowhere to go but on the
closet.I moved toward the closet a little rapidly, bringing my wooden study
chair. I stood on it and reached out my hand to get the compass. I touched the
object and felt some coldness. I hold it and removed the dirt hiding the
pointer, with my thumb. I was somehow glad to see the needle still pointing
north.
I then noticed the compass also indicated me to see the bottom of the
bed silently. I climbed off the chair and fumbled under the bed. I was looking
for something that the compass was pointing at. When I found the brochure of an
art school, my heartbeat started to accelerate. I remembered the old days, with
my abstract and audacious works in the art class of elementary school. The sky
and ground drawn in one gray color, the drawing paper cut the edges by scissors,
and my broken name that it was barely readable: All of these works were denied
by the adult getting upset. Reminding the discarded memories, I still felt they
were treasurable for my life. Looking at the front cover of the brochure the
school’s name written, I decided to go downstairs with my absolute hope. It had
destroyed by my surroundings once, but I wanted to believe in the excitement in
my mind and the indication by the compass in my hand.
I might have flung the
“docity” by myself. I needed have enough time, revising the plan, aiming for the
next stage more. It would take a supreme time to obtain the skill to become an
outstanding artist. But I determined to speak to my parents once more and tell
my dream...
“One day, I will turn into
like the bird of passage going to the north.”
“One day, I will meet my success pulling me
like the gravity.”
