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A Day in the Life of Mikey the Pigeon Six A.M. is a fascinating time in New York City. The sun has just barely started raising, and already the inhabitants of metropolis are in full swing, preparing for another day. The men and women awake from their restless sleep of the night before, blurry eyed they enter their showers. The men shave, the women tend to breakfast. Different aromas of coffee, ranging from the straight black of the business men, to the hundreds of exquisite lattes of the women and teenagers take hold of the hustling homes and the arousing businesses. Give time an hour or so, and the children and teenagers come to life as well. A whole second round of morning rituals takes place, although the second set comes around in a much more hurried and rushed fashioned. Eight A.M. rolls around, and the people are off, crawling out towards the city streets. Over eight million people inhabit this city; everywhere one looks, there are people, all different types of people. Tall, short, heavyset, malnourished. Shady looking overcoats pulled high, paired with sunglasses. Jeans and jackets. Long blonde hair flowing atop two perky malachites. Beanies and scarves. A particularly gray day. Hoodie weather. All of these people are very different from each other, but they all have one common purpose: it also differs person to person, but everyone has one; to live without a purpose would not really be living at all. A child's purpose is to learn, to grow. An adult's purpose is to work, to provide for family. It is not always this black and white however, which leads to an abundance of people who question their motives. Questions of Why am I here? What am I supposed to do with my life? Pair these questions with other circumstances, like overly critical parents, depression, and deadlines, and the outcome is just one giant recipe for disaster. While all of the hustle and bustle of the city transforming from a nightlife paradise to a tireless work machine is taking place, another being is preparing for another day as well. Located in the cracks of the wall on the roof of the abandoned building on the corner of Jackson and 2nd is a little nest of dried twigs and leaves. A small, gray pigeon named Mikey slowly stumbles out of the nest, and onto the rooftop.

Hopping over to the edge of the roof, he watches as the sun rises and slowly illuminates the world with its pale, sickly light. It may not be much, but for the chilly November weather, it's a comforting feeling. Time for another day. Feeling satisfied with his daily watching of the sun, Mikey stretches himself out, making sure to warm up thoroughly. He grooms himself and pecks out any dried bracken from the nest still clinging to him. Nine, Mikey thinks. Time to set out in search of breakfast. With a running start, Mikey jumps right off the roof he calls home and plunges off the 35 foot tall building. Falling a bit longer than usual, he ponders. What would happen if he allowed himself to fall to the ground? Nothing would really change, he thinks to himself. No one would miss me if I were gone. No one would even notice. This is not the first time thoughts like these have crossed Mikey's mind. It's hard not to think like this at times, especially when the harsh reality is that it's all true. However, today is not Mikey's swan song. With little effort, he points his head north, stretches out his wings, and swoops upwards. Flying is wonderful, Mikey thinks. It is one of his favorite activities. It would be strange if a bird didn't like flying, right? Raising upwards and upwards more, Mikey can see everything. The cars are slowly slugging around the city, the kids on their bikes are going to school. Everything, no matter how ordinary or trivial, has some kind of beauty to it. If I wasn't here anymore, would I still be able to see and feel beauty like this where I end up? Memorial Park is where Mikey is headed, one of his many feeding grounds. After a chilly flight, Mikey swoops down and lands on a chilled metallic park bench. He hops to the ground and begins his daily search for worms. There's only a few out this morning, however, as Mikey sullenly finds out. I guess this meager helping will have to do. After shaking himself, Mikey sky rockets upward again. It’s just like any other day. While kids are in school and the adults are working, Mikey is flying around, learning more and more about the world each day. He decides to spend the first part of his day perching, a bittersweet activity. Settling himself on top of a light pole on the corner of a street, Mikey watches the world around him. "Ah! Somebody help me!" a woman cries as a man in a black ski mask pushes her to the ground. The surrounding bystanders either run

away or just stare, emotionless eyes watching the scene unfold. The man steals the woman's purse, and then runs off into an alley, easily scaling a fence and getting away. No one comes the shaken lady's aid. Glancing in the opposite direction, Mikey sees a somewhat portly boy, around the age of ten or so, walking to school. Behind him are five other boys, whispering and snickering. One of the boys picks up an empty soda can off the street and throws it at the boy. "Hey tubby, eat this!" The boys hoot and holler with laughter. Another break off from heard and run past the boy, stealing his lunchbox. "You don't need this! You're so fat, let someone else who deserves this food have it! You can go a few days without!" The pack runs ahead, clearly enjoying themselves. The lone boy is left standing on the sidewalk, tears streaming down his face. Same old, same old. It's like this everyday. Why is there so much hate in this world? After perching for a while longer, Mikey gets up, sighing. He shakes himself, and flies out across the sky. He glances at an electronic sign as he goes by. 12:58 P.M. That gives me around four hours. Hopefully some reading will cheer me up. I definitely need it. Mikey descends outside of the Charleston Public Library. A male passerby, around 28 years old, sees Mikey standing outside of the library. With a devilish grin he picks up a stone the size of an apple off the ground. “Get out of here, you dumb rat with wings!” the man exclaims as he throws it at Mikey. “No one wants you here!” Mikey flies back into the air, barely dodging the rock. What is his problem? Mikey thinks. You have nothing better to do with your life than to torment another being? The man walks away, still snickering. But... is he right? Descending again, Mikey hurriedly walks into the library with low spirits. The seemingly endless rows of books, which usually make Mikey feel better, do nothing to that effect today. Since poetry is his favorite type of reading, Mikey spends some time reading some works by Ginsberg. After a while, Mikey gets up to search for another book to read, and notices a news story on one of the televisions on the far wall of the room. He hops over to it to check it out. A reporter is talking of a

tragedy that happened a few blocks over yesterday. “The suspect, displayed on this security footage here, jumped out of the vehicle, grabbed both children while their mother was turned, and sped off. Police are currently investigating and questioning witness, but no one…” Even in the library, my one safe haven, there is still evil! Mikey walks over to the "M" section, feeling sick to his stomach. I just want to forget all of my troubles, and all of the evils of the world. Coming across a collection of Melville poems, he dives right in, spirits raising a bit. These men have such beautiful ways with words. It’s so inspiring. It makes me feel like I can be so much more. “Instinct and study; love and hate; Audacity—reverence. These must mate, And fuse with Jacob’s mystic heart, To wrestle with the angel—Art.” After spending a good amount of time reading, the lights suddenly turn off. Mikey looks up and sees that it is five, and the library has closed for the day. No one even noticed that I was still in here? Forlornly, Mikey stands up and walks over to the door. I might aswell go find something to eat. It’s not like I have anything else to do. Mikey steps steps outside, and is greeted with a cool blast of air and graying skies. His stomach rumbles. Looks like it’s going to rain soon. Mikey jumps into the air, and flies over to Easy Dale park. The search for worms is still harder than usual today, and Mikey only finds a scant few. Right as he finishes his pitiful meal, a fat, cold raindrop lands on his head. Great. The sky opens up, and the downpour begins. Today just keeps getting worse and worse. Mikey takes flight once more, and starts flying towards home. On his way there, he spots a tall, run down factory in a less populated part of the city. With a sharp veer, Mikey flies towards the factory, weighing the consequences of what he is about to do. Everyday is like this. Maybe I should just put an end to it all. Mikey lands on the dust laden rooftop of the factory. The sun is veiled by an army of inky charcoal clouds, relentlessly drowning the city. Starting to pace the roof, Mikey begins thinking to himself, the rain blinding his vision.

Sure, there’s some good things about life. But compared to the downsides, I just don’t know. When I look out over the world while perching, I see so much evil. How can people live with themselves, knowing the pain they’ve inflicted on others? Like that kid that was getting ganged up on today. He was crying, and the others wouldn’t stop. How could anyone enjoy harming someone? And that guy today outside of the library, and that man on the television. It seems like everyone loves picking on those who can’t defend themselves. There is just so much hate in this world. It just isn’t worth it. Mikey stops thinking for a second and walks over to the edge of the roof. The rain is still coming down. It looks like a forty, maybe fifty foot drop. No one would even care if I wasn’t around anymore. Compared to this life, nothing could be worse. No one will miss me. Who knows, maybe things will even be better. Let's just get it over with. I don't want to feel pain ever again. Mikey closes his eyes and starts counting down in his head. 5,4,3,2He stops and turns around when he suddenly hears a door open behind him. Onto the roof rushes a girl wearing a soaking wet gray hoodie, around 17 or so. After spending so much time in his own little world, Mikey didn't notice that there was another person up on the roof with him. A boy, around the same age as the girl, is standing on the opposite edge of the roof. "Drake!" The new arrival screams. "What are you doing?" "I'm sorry Emily. I just can't stand life anymore. I’m going to jump.” “Drake, please listen to me. I know that times are tough for you right now, but I promise that things will get better! Please don’t do this; don’t make me go through the loss of another friend.” Falling to her knees, she barely manages to get the last lines out before completely breaking down. “You just don’t understand,” Drake says, walking closer to her. “You could never understand how much I go through on a daily basis. You could never understand what I went through growing up. My parents divorcing when I was only eight, being forced to switch between the house of an alcoholic mother, and a father who could never be impressed with me, every other week. After one of our track meets in eighth grade, I had to walk four miles back home after waiting at the

school for two hour for my mom to come and get me. When I got home, she was passed out in the living room with five cans of beer around her. Freshman year, when I got that A-, the highest grade out of our whole class, on our final english exam, all my father said to me was ‘An A-? Why didn’t you get an A? You’re a failure, and you always will be.’ No one cares about me, and nobody likes me. But how could you understand? Your dad is the vice principal, and your mother is a doctor. You have a perfect life. You have siblings and friends, and loving parents. You’re never alone. You don’t know what it’s like, thinking about killing yourself every day. I can’t take it anymore.” Tears still rolling down her face, Emily lifts the sleeves of her hoodie, revealing cuts on both of her arms. “I understand, Drake. I understand completely. Sure, I have a lot of ‘friends’, but I’m not close to any of them. And I’m in the same boat as you. My parents aren’t divorced, and they seem nice in public and all, but at home, it’s like I’m not even there. I’m a ghost in my own home. All of my parents’ attention is on my brothers. There’s Travis the sports superstar, Jerry the straight A wiz kid, and then there’s me. I’m always living in their shadows. I just keep to myself, alone in my room. Every day I come home from school, head to my room. and stay in there until the next day. I can never please my parents. If I do well in basketball, they compare me to Travis. An A+ on a paper? Jerry beats that by a longshot. I’m just… not good enough for them.” “Oh Emily…” Jason bends down and hugs her for a long time. Mikey feels moved by the scene unfolding before him. Even though both of these kids have been pushed to the edge of no return, they still have somehow clung to life all these years. They’re both completely alone in the world, no one cares about them. But still… they still hold on. “Emily, I wish I could take all of your pain away. You’re so smart and beautiful. Don’t compare yourself to your brothers! I’ve seen them around. Sure, one’s a popular jock, and the other is the next Einstein. But they’re not you! You know that little coffee shop on the corner of Wilson and Short? I go every Friday to watch you read your poetry. It’s beautiful. It helps give me peace of mind, to distract me from all of my problems. I doubt your brothers have such a way with words as you.” Emily stands up, smiling. “Thank you. I actually have a secret too.

Whenever I go on walks, I love walking past the old track by your mom’s. Whenever you’re at her house, I know you go into the bleachers and play your guitar and sing. I stand behind that old oak tree and listen to you, smiling like an idiot. It’s silly, we’ve been friends for years, but I’ve always been too afraid to really talk to you. Just the casual ‘Hi’ in the hallways. I don’t know, I just thought that you wouldn’t like me or something.” “That’s exactly how I felt about you.” They stop talking and just stand there, looking into each others souls. Drake lifts his hand and sweeps of the remaining tears from Emily’s face. “It’s funny how both of us basically kept sane because of each other, isn’t it?” Drake asks. “Yea, it really is,” She pauses. “Would you like to come over?” She asks, staring up at the rain. “Let’s get out of this.” “I’d love to,” Drake responds. “You know, I honestly feel better now. Just knowing that there is someone out there, who feels just like me. Someone who understands me. It really fills me with hope. Oh- but I do have one question. How did you know I was up here?” “It’s funny. I finally built up the nerve to come over and see if you wanted to catch a movie, and while walking to your house, I saw you on this roof. I don’t know what made me want to come over today of all days, but I’m glad that I did.” “Divine intervention at its best, I suppose,” Drake says with a little laugh. “Let’s go.” He puts his arm around Emily, and the two set off. “Thank you, Emily. You saved my life.” “Thank you Drake. You saved mine.” Thank you, both of you. You may not know it, but three lives were just saved. Mikey watches as the two leave the building, filled with a new sense of hope. All I need to do is focus on the good in life. If I do that, then the bad won’t mean as much. I just need to surround myself with real friends- an Emily to my Drake. Sure, there are a lot of bad things in this world, but there is so much beauty. The feeling I got while watching Emily and Drake, I wouldn't give that up for anything in the world. All you really need is love. If there was more love in this world, things would be so much better. Mikey turns around and steps back from the ledge.

The rain has died down, and the only rain remaining is the leftovers falling from trees and telephone wires. With these new found comforting thoughts in his head, Mikey stretches himself out, making sure to warm up and to shake the dankness of the storm completely off. He grooms himself, and feeling satisfied, decides to head back home. Tomorrow will be the first day of a new Mikey. Time to focus on the beauty of life. Maybe… Maybe I’ll become a writer. I can write stories, stories about love and hope. Maybe I can inspire and save lives too. With a running start, Mikey jumps right off the roof and plunges downwards, but for only a split second. It’s time to go home. He turns around, and rockets high into the sky, ready for whatever the world may throw at him. Beneath Mikey, the city is switching into night mode. People are heading home, business are shutting down, and the bright fluorescents of street lamps and signs envelop the city. It is such a beautiful sight; I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Whatever comes my way, I’ll be ready. Nothing will get me down ever again. Sure, there will be bad times, but I won’t dwell on them. Life is too precious and short to waste. I’m going to be somebody. I want to inspire people the way I’ve been inspired. I know what it is like to have to face things alone, and I don't want anyone else to have to feel like that. I want to be there to help people. I'm going to make a change. One day, everyone will know the name Mikey The Pigeon.!...