Trembling With Fear 11/22/20

The Life of a Butterfly by Keily Blair

The wings were foreign, bulky intrusions on Luna’s thin body. They were yellow, spotted, and light. Her new joints and muscles ached. The magic inside of her sat like a rock in her stomach. It burned, flooding her with an invisible, smoldering fire. The hunger rose within her, gnawing and pushing her to work. She flew to the first flower, and pollen clung to her as she gulped mouthfuls of its sweet nectar. 

The magic helped the plants grow, spread the pollen. In the mornings, she would collect dew from the flowers to give to thirsty little bugs. At midday, she busied herself flitting about between flowers, tapping them with magic to make them grow faster, aiding in pollination, and collecting nectar. 

Humans liked to stop and stare at her, pointing at the pretty “butterfly.” She would wave to them, but they appeared to take no notice of the tiny, waving hands. When frustration took over, or the humans walked away, she would turn invisible and pinch or poke them. They would yelp, check for bug bites, and move on. She would watch them leave with an ache in her heart, her arms sore from hours of waving off and on. Sometimes she would fly after them and whisper apologies in their ears, but her voice never reached them. Or they mistook her careful apology for the sound of a fly buzzing in their ears, and she had to move, or else giant hands would swat her.

At night, she headed back to the treetops to sleep with her sisters. She crawled into bed, listening to them each tell stories of what they did to persuade humans to notice them long enough to see past the “butterfly” illusions that draped over each of them. Each one spoke with a humored smile, but the sorrow in their voices allowed the ache to creep back in. Luna tossed and turned all night, as she did every night, but in the morning, like clockwork, she left their hollow log home to complete the day’s chores.

Her wings flapped behind her, but her arms and legs dangled limp and tired. Her body moved of its own accord, watering the bugs, and collecting the nectar as she did every single day. Each tear that fell from a fairy created a new flower to look after, so Luna had long ago learned to approach each day with dry eyes. 

One day, a young girl wandered through the grass, picking at the flowers. She giggled when she saw the butterfly fluttering onto a nearby rose. Luna waved to her, and to her surprise, the girl waved back. Luna cupped her hands around her mouth to call out to the girl.

“You can see me?” Luna asked.

The girl nodded, smiling.

“You can hear me,” Luna said.

This time, she did not care about the girl’s answer. She flew onto the girl’s outstretched hand and smiled.

“What is your name?” Luna asked.

“Willow,” the girl said.

Luna’s body trembled with excitement. The space where her wings met her back ached.

“Would you like to hear a secret, Willow?” Luna asked.

“Yes,” Willow said.

Luna alighted on Willow’s shoulder and whispered the ancient words that had once been whispered into her own ear years ago. The moment she did, the familiar ache in her muscles and joints returned. The magic inside of her grew hotter, scalding her insides and forcing her to double over from the pain. She barely felt Willow drop her. Her extra joints vanished, the wings crumbled away. In less than a minute, Luna found herself lying in the grass, human once more.

She gasped in delight. She stood and spun around, falling back onto the grass with a giggle. A flash of yellow caught her eye, and she frowned.

A butterfly rested on the ground nearby, twitching and preparing for a day’s work.