Sungmin picked up the paper plane, laying it down on the wooden floor and smoothing out its wrinkles. He stared at the paper plane’s delicate wings, gripping the paper tighter.
It was just a piece of paper, folded to mimic something it could never become.
He would have considered it a mere scrap of paper if not for Kyuhyun’s death last week. Kyuhyun's friends, family, and his girlfriend all assumed it was a mere accident. However, Sungmin knew that it was something else entirely. He noticed the recent changes in Kyuhyun, yet he waved it off as one of Kyuhyun's mood swings. He was worried, yet he didn't ask Kyuhyun. He knew and he regretted it.
It wasn’t like Kyuhyun.
His lackluster eyes. His trembling smile. His dreamlike trance.
Now, Sungmin stood in the middle of the dreary room, surrounded by tens and hundreds of paper planes. Faint sunlight seeped through the window, the tan curtains fluttering from the breeze leaking through a small crack in the dirty glass.
He didn’t know much about Kyuhyun, regardless of the fact that they were roommates. They were friends, nothing less and nothing more. What was Kyuhyun thinking? What was he suffering from? Pressure? A fatal disease? Was it something that he couldn’t even tell his dear ones?
Sungmin slowly let himself sink down, his back pressed against the cold floor. He stretched out his arms and legs, pushing paper airplanes out of the way. The ceiling gazed back at him as he lay on the floor, unmoving. He fumbled for a paper plane, holding it above him as he opened it and flattened the folds.
Thin, spidery handwriting.
He could recognize it anywhere. Kyuhyun’s writing always looked like it could fly away from the page and into the distance. Unsettled, Sungmin brought the paper closer to his face.
Everyone in this world is a paper airplane. We are all born to fly, with the intention to fly, and the dream to fly.
Yet, we cannot fly forever.
With each flick of the wrist, we are airborne. Airborne, with wings made of paper.
However, paper is only an artificial imitation for the feathers that we long to have. It only lasts for so long. Soon, we must wake up and return to reality.
Everyone’s journey to the end is different; some people’s flights are shaky, whereas others can fly with ease.
However, we all have the same destination.
Falling. Crashing. Burning.
Sungmin turned the paper over, hoping to see more of Kyuhyun’s delicate handwriting. Seeing that there was none, Sungmin set the piece of paper next to him, and then rolled over to face a mountain of paper airplanes. He reached out and plucked another airplane at random, quickly and eagerly unfolding it. His eyes drank in the words, each sentence burning into his mind.
You know, I wanted to fly.
It’s not anyone else’s fault, and certainly not an accident. It was my own decision, so please don't blame anyone. I jumped off of the building to fly. To prove myself.
It’s hard to understand, and sometimes I wonder if I've gone insane. I want to see the world from above. I want to feel the air rushing through my hair. I want to touch the sky. Is it that hard to believe?
I don’t want to be paper winged.
an entry for
super junior writing contest