Charlie the Chicken stood on the side of the road. This was no particularly special day, nor was it any particularly special occurrence. Charlie stood on this side of the road quite often, though that was the extent of his actions. He just stood there. His gaze would fall onto the other side of that dreary street, only interrupted by the passing of the occasional car.
Charlie never left his side of this lonely stretch of asphalt. He often wondered about the other side. Sure, he could see that which was directly in front of him, but that couldn’t account for all that was not within his line of sight. He could not even begin to imagine what was beyond that. Charlie had spent so long staring at that same view that he yearned for a change, no matter how small. However, at the same time, the thought of change was rather daunting. The fear of the unknown was paralyzing.
The Chicken would be lying if he said that he was never scared. Most of the time Charlie’s nerves got the best of him. Well, not most of the time, all of the time. Charlie never did anything courageous. All he did, day in and day out, was stand on the side of the road.
He often imagined himself taking that first step. He thought of how the asphalt would feel under his feet. It will be rough, he thought. His mind would then inevitably stray to thoughts that frightened him. What if it hurts? The possibility of pain concerned The Chicken even more.
This always happened to Charlie. He would be so close to moving, to taking that first step, but then he would start dwelling on all that could go wrong, until the infinite realm of unfortunate possibilities would cause him to spiral into crushing insecurity. Then Charlie would give up for the day.
The Chicken often tried to convince himself that all of these fears were trivial, and that he should not concern himself with them. But after every day, and every failure, Charlie found it harder to believe that he would ever change.
I will beat this. Charlie thought, This fear will not be my downfall, I will be brave. I will take that first step. I will not be afraid any more. Charlie closed his eyes. This is a special day, he thought to himself, This is the day.
In his mind, The Chicken imagined taking that first step. His foot gently touched the street. He felt no pain. His other foot followed, feeling the asphalt with no hesitation. Charlie felt like he was floating, gliding across the road, one nimble step at a time. The farther he walked, more came into view. The sun was high on the other side, bathing him in a warm, bright light. Charlie looked behind him. There stood his side of the road, all that he had ever known. He looked back with fondness on all of the days that he had spent before this moment. He did not think on this as sad, because he knew that the time he spent there was good. With a smile, he turned back to the other side, and walked to it, unafraid.
“Charlie?” A nurse said, as she entered the room, “Charlie?”
She looked up at the monitors at his bedside. A flat line buzzed across the screen. She grasped Charlie’s hand in hers. She looked up at his face. He was smiling. She leaned in, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “I told you that you weren’t a chicken.”
Copyright Melissa Asselin 2011
Ahhh, that's so sad.
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