Okari (To Be Free)

To Be Free

The gray heavens shrouded the faint rays of sunlight that attempted to
penetrate through the thick clouds overhead. Brittle trees swayed
gently in the calm wind as they became engulfed by the dense,
reoccurring morning fog. The muddy ground was moist from the rainfall
earlier, surrounding the wooden cabin just beside the stagnant and
murky lake. Long brown vines grew rampant on the decaying wooden walls
of the dwelling, indicating the many years without care and
indifference. The lingering air reeked of a peculiar stench so foul and
displeasing that no living creature could tolerate. Besides the ominous
calls from a hawk in the sky, silence remained throughout the forest as
nature stood still in a war-torn Japan.
Water droplets from the storm slowly slid down on the grime-covered
cabin windows. He saw his fading reflection in the glass as he sat
there, staring out at the lifeless scenery that was presented before
him. Using his two wrinkled hands, he covered his face hoping to never
see his pallid and withered appearance ever again. Okari was a man of
strength, not in physical terms but rather mental. His powers of
imagination as a once influential philosopher were unique and
astounding without a doubt, since he was a believer and not a thinker.
The difference between them cannot be any more obvious - one lives
forever and the other does not. Isolated from the rest of the world
because of unfairly supported accusations of wrongful preaching about
the corruption in government, his imagination proved to be his only
means of recourse from the dullness of his surroundings, allowing him
to smile at least once in his exiled existence. But only in his dreams
could Okari be free.
Balding at the top, with small tufts of white hair on the sides of his
head, few but deep scars on his face revealed the years of pain and
suffering in his miserable life as a handicapped observer of the world.
The old man's general health was awful and quickly withering away,
cursed by a chronic illness which caused him to sporadically cough to
point that it hurt his dry and tender throat, occasionally making it
difficult to breathe. His frail and slender frame had caused his body
to lose the ability to walk because of a rare disease that affected the
bone structure of the legs, ultimately making them useless.
The old man slowly rested his back on the wheelchair. He was a very
tired soul, still awaiting that one opportunity to be free from all
this suffering. Closing his delicate eyes to shield himself away from
the reality of this sluggish life, he let out a deep sigh. Okari was
dying.
A water droplet dripped down from the eye of the hawk as it circled
high in the sky, basking in the warm, brilliant rays of light emitted
from the radiant sun. There was not a cloud in sight to block the
much-needed sunlight away from terrestrial and aquatic life - it was
free. Clean and pointy feathers decorated its long wingspan
beautifully, providing the bird with a graceful and promising
appearance. Through the hawk's sharp and keen eyes, it saw the
spectacular view of the vast fields of wheat and corn below, flapping
its enormous wings against the crisp air. It flew over seemingly
endless rivers and dense forests en route to the giant mountain, seen
in the distance.
A concentrated beam of multicolored lights suddenly ripped through the
cloudless blue sky when the hawk reached the mountaintop, as if a
medieval sorcerer had summoned the powers of a supernatural being from
the heavens. It was genuinely a beautiful sight. The gaping hole in the
sky spawned the explosion of intense glowing rays of red, yellow,
orange, and green, streaking in random directions past the bird. Little
bright orbs soon emerged along the hazy boundary of the opening in the
heavens, sparkling in unison in the afternoon summer sky. The air
became noticeably warmer as the hawk attempted to fly toward the
gateway to a new and unknown world. But it became warmer. Then even
warmer.
It was difficult for the animal to breathe, despite its large capacity
for storage of air in the lungs. As the bird struggled to reach the
entrance, the continued flapping of its wings became tiring since it
seemed the more that it tried, it did not seem to be getting anywhere
closer. Some particular invisible force prevented it from flying into
the hole in the sky. It was a force so powerful, yet so fragile; a
force so real that it cannot be explained but rather experienced. The
winds increased in speed while the bird inched toward the sparkling
entrance as it flapped its wings for the last time with its last bit of
strength, in desperation. It soon grew too tired to fly since the wings
could produce no additional lift, and consequently, the merciless winds
blew it back into the sunny afternoon setting where it tumbled downward
from the sky.
Upon contact with the earth, the hawk's solid body morphed into a
puddle of clear water, resembling the shape of a teardrop which slid
down the old man's face. The liquid soon drained from Okari's eyes till
they became dry. He sat there idle in his chair as he rested his arms
comfortably. I'm free, he said quietly to himself and entered that
gateway to a new and beautiful world without lifelong suffering that he
had always envisioned and hoped to become a reality. He smiled as he
kept his eyes shut with no intent of opening them because he was
finally happy. It was all that he could ever ask for.
Darkness.