At least I got to fly

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As kids, we all had a superpower we wished to have. Some wanted the ability to run faster than the speed of sound, some came up with their own -rather unfair- superpower, and most simply picked whatever superpower the current “cool” hero had. However, I always wanted to fly. I would gaze up at the sky and watch the clouds lazily drift across that infinite, blue expanse that wraps around our planet. I cannot tell you how many times I got cuts and bruises from attempting to jump from the roof, balcony, or some other high place that would put me just a few inches closer to my goal. While other kids would change their favorite superpower in a days time or would shift to another point of interest entirely, I always held that want to touch the sky. Now, I would not call it an obsession, my dreams of flight were just something that made me smile upon thinking revisitting. I realized that I would, most likely, never achieve the dream of sprouting wings and lifting off the ground to feel the wind blow through my hair -at least not without the help of some type of machine or mutation. Yes, I decided to instead shoot a little lower and aim to become an aviator, “I could at least experience the sky through the protective glass of an airplane or jet”, I thought. However, I was wrong. I did get to fly, if only for a moment. When I looked down at the text my girlfriend sent me, and without really thinking, reached out to reply. In that short instance, neither I nor the bearded man driving the truck that rammed into my car’s front see each other: and in a matter of seconds, I was airborne. My flight was not filled with a graceful ascension or the thrill of me willingly defying earth’s gravity, but was instead filled with the sensation of broken glass burying itself into my skin and the sensation of vertigo as my eyes went from staring, down, at my phone to staring at the harsh ground from high above. As I lay here on the hard road, staring up at the sky that I love so much with eyes that no longer truly see, I think I would like to have had another power. Never in my life would I think I would yearn for another gift as wonderful as being one with the heavens, but here I am wishing that exact thing. If I could only have the power to rewind time. To go back a few months and give my mother an extra hard hug before I went off to college, to spend one more day relaxing on the roof with my friends as we talked about nothing and everything all at once, and to tell my girlfriend ,one last time, how much she truly means to me. If only, I had superpowers. However, I am not entirely forsaken, for I was able to finally relish the sensation of weightlessness. I was finally able to leave the confines of gravity for but a moment, and do what the younger me probably would have never dreamed of -although my landing was basically the same as when I was a child. I think I see figures rushing to my body, to see if I can be saved; but I have a strong feeling that they are far too late to save me. I am actually a little thankful that I cannot move my head to see the shattered remains of my body. As my vision darkens, I can see one last image. I see a scene of my funeral, my loved ones dressed in black, my significant other wailing almost as loud as my mother, all the people I have significantly touched crowding into the small chapel that I was forced to frequent in my youth, and I believe I can hear the one thing going through their minds, spoken in my own voice, “At least I got to fly.”