Symbolic Beliefs

Frederick Davis was an old puppeteer who had spent years creating beautiful and happy memories for the people of the town; with puppets that each had a past, were beautiful, and whose stories had become an example for many young people. Puppets that had shaped the childhoods of many people in the town and, years later, still made some of them smile whenever they heard their names.

He had five puppets and an infinite number of stories.

Lydia was a proud, but beautiful and charming girl who could talk to birds and almost always helped the main character of the story. Sometimes her pride was annoying, but behind that pride was a kind heart.

Jack was a reckless and fearless boy whose courage was famous to everyone. He was afraid of nothing and was always looking for new things to discover. Any door that others were afraid to open, Jack was always the first to pull down its handle.

Astrid was a Scandinavian queen with white hair and icy blue eyes. She had a special calmness about her; even when everything in the story fell apart, her voice remained calm and her presence made others feel safe. Everyone respected her.

Samuel was a black-clad and very wicked wizard who was always looking for a way to hurt others. Unlike the other four puppets, no one was ever supposed to consider Samuel a hero. He was the villain of the story, and he wasn't unhappy about it either.

And finally, there was Angel.

A simple, kind, beautiful, cheerful, helpful, and emotional girl.

Everyone loved Angel.

She was almost always the main character of the stories and the center of attention; a girl who would sit beside someone when they were sad, hold someone's hand when they needed help, and when everyone had lost hope, somehow find a way to smile.

The people of the town loved Angel.

Or at least, they always said so.

After many years, Frederick passed away due to old age.

The shows ended.

The curtain fell for the last time, and the five puppets were put away one after another in a corner; somewhere dark and far from the stage, far from the lights and the people for whom they had spent years creating stories.

Some time passed.

That night, Angel opened her eyes in the darkness.

She didn't know where she was.

She slowly got up and looked around. Everything was dark and silent. There was no sound of Frederick, no sound of the show's music, and no sound of the people waiting behind the curtain for the story to begin.

The first thing that came to her mind was the others.

Astrid.

Jack.

Lydia.

And even Samuel.

Angel began searching.

She looked in one corner, then another. She called their names, but received no answer.

Until her foot stepped on something.

The sound of breaking glass echoed through the silence.

Angel pulled her foot back in fear. A broken mirror lay on the floor, and with the pressure of her foot, it had now shattered into even more pieces.

She bent down and picked up one of the pieces of the mirror.

Then she looked at herself.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

She just stared.

She was a human.

With the same feelings, the same behavior, the same memories, and the same personality she had always had.

But her appearance...

Angel blinked.

No.

She wasn't beautiful at all.

Not at all.

For the first time in her entire life, looking at herself was difficult for her.

Her heart hurt.

She had once been one of Frederick's most beautiful puppets. Her smile, her hair, her clothes, and even the smallest details of her face had been carefully made. People came to see her, and whenever she appeared on stage, everyone's eyes turned toward her.

But now what?

Now, even she wasn't willing to look at her own face for very long, let alone other people.

She lowered the piece of mirror.

For a few moments, she lowered her head.

Then suddenly, she remembered something.

The things people had said.

The years when she had been the star of the show.

People always said:

They loved Angel because of her kindness.

Because of her heart.

Because she always helped others.

Because when someone was sad, she stayed.

So maybe...

Maybe her appearance didn't matter.

Angel took a deep breath.

She put the mirror aside and left.

She had made a decision.

She wanted to enter people's lives again.

Not as a puppet.

Not as a character in a story.

But as herself.

She walked through the streets. She tried to maintain her confidence. She helped people when they dropped something, held doors open for old men, showed the way if someone was lost, and even smiled at strangers.

She was the same Angel.

The same girl people had loved for years in Frederick's stories.

But something had changed.

When people looked at her, they didn't smile.

Some looked away.

Some stared at her in surprise.

Some frowned so obviously that Angel had to pretend she hadn't noticed.

There were even familiar faces.

People who once stood there for Angel after Frederick's shows ended and applauded.

People who brought her flowers.

People who told others:

“Angel is the best character in Frederick's stories.”

But now, when Angel passed them, those same people looked at her as if they didn't know her at all.

Days passed.

Then weeks.

The more Angel tried, the more she felt that she was growing distant from people.

The worst part was that some of those people genuinely considered themselves good people.

People who proudly said:

“I would never judge someone because of their appearance.”

But if Angel came near them, they would unconsciously take a step back.

People who said:

“What matters is what's in a person's heart.”

But when Angel wanted to sit beside them, they would move somewhere else.

People who had watched Frederick's stories for years and confidently said that the main lesson of those stories was that true beauty was on the inside.

But Angel was now standing in the real world and seeing how easy that sentence was when it was only a sentence.

After some time, Angel couldn't find a place among people at all.

The harder she tried, the more she felt that people's eyes remained on her.

She was still the same Angel.

The same kind girl.

The same girl who helped others.

The same girl who had once been the center of every story.

But no one wanted her story anymore.

Maybe people didn't love Angel.

Maybe they only loved the image that Frederick had created of Angel for them.

And now that Frederick was gone, that image had shattered too.

One night, Angel stood in front of a mirror again.

This time, the mirror wasn't broken.

She saw her own reflection.

She stared at it for a long time.

Then she remembered Frederick.

She remembered the stage.

She remembered the lights.

She remembered the sound of people applauding.

And she remembered everything they used to say about her.

The people of the town had always thought they were the kind of people who saw inner beauty; people who didn't care about appearance and believed that a person's true worth was determined by their heart and behavior.

But now Angel saw the truth.

Maybe they really weren't those kinds of people.

Maybe it was simply something they liked to believe about themselves.

Something that perhaps had died for the people too, with Frederick's death.