I sat in the damp grass, back up against a tall oak, as I stared into the dark heart of the forest. My body was numb, not from the cold of the air, but from the cold in my heart. The pain has grown so large that I no longer feel emotion. Happiness, joy, excitement, sadness, pain, is now numbness. The early morning clouds lazily swirled into a thick haze that suffocated the plants and trees. Starting at the bottom, the blackness swirls up into my stomach, slowly creeping into my chest, up to my throat, and down my arms to the stinging scars beneath my gray hoodie. I had lost track of time, what time it was now or what time it was when I left I didn’t know. I know it was early. Very early. I thought hard to remember when I left, no rhyme or reason, I was just tired of the hate. People hating others, people hating me, me hating myself.
I observed a dead tulip, crinkled under the frost, browned and sad. I pulled my knees up to my chest, feeling as though I may be the next thing in the forest to flop over. Then I realized I hoped I would be the next thing.
The fog seemed now to be pouring out of the forest laid before me, as the sadness was pouring out of my heart. I hated myself for getting a B on my physics test. I hated myself for not having friends. I hated myself for hating myself. The dead trees around me swayed in the bitter breeze which whispered into my ear.
“Why?” it slid across my face and churned
around my numbed body.
“I’m just tired.” I whispered, a single
tear slipping down my rosy cheek. The breeze pushed on, this time rustling the
few un-fallen leaves. I took a shaky deep breath before the dam broke, and the
tears rushed like waterfalls. I buried my face in my knees.
“I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate
everything. I miss mom.” The thought of mom brought a new wave of shudders and
tears. Enough to revive the sad tulip if I had the energy to move close enough
to it.
“Why didn’t I see the car? Why didn’t I
go the other way? Why did I make her take me out to dinner? It wasn’t that
important. Food is not important.” I realized then, that it had also been quite
some time since I ate, but with a deep breath, decided it didn’t matter. Nobody
noticed the constant sweats growing ever larger on my wasting body. Nobody
noticed my slipping grades, my social withdraw. Nobody cared. Why should I? My
step-dad, my sister, my “friends”, my teachers. The steady river slowly
trickled to a sad stream, which regressed back to the cold, dry cheek. I wiped
away the last tear, finally hoping to be back into my state of numbness, but
instead I felt a tickle on my hand. I blinked to see a blotchy orange blob. I
focused the image into view to see a butterfly, gracefully perched on my hand.
“What are you doing here? It’s November. You’re gonna die. I don’t want you to die too.” My bruised, throbbing heard cracked at the thought of this innocent little butterfly at the mercy of the harsh, Jersey winter. But instead of flying away, the little bug began inching
his way up my hand to the edge of my sweatshirt. It poked its head inside my
sleeve, wanting to explore.
“No, that’s yucky. You don’t wanna see that.” But the little bug fought against the heavy fabric, its determination radiating off every cell. Eventually I pulled up my sleeve, allowing the little creature access to the rows of pink scars. Sneaking up my forearm, the
butterfly lowered its wings, and brushed the delicate appendages across the
raised scars. Up and back, across every single scar the butterfly made sure to
get every single one, as if to tell me, “I care.” My heart began to mend, and
something of a smile began to creep across my face as the butterfly fluttered
its delicate wings across my arm, before turning to me, and flying away, into
the fresh beam of light the newly risen sun was radiating onto my frozen flesh.
“FELICITY” I heard a panicked voice shriek into the serene forest. The final stitch was made to my heart as my troubles and sorrows and pain fluttered away on the wings of the butterfly, who triumphantly danced into the beam of morning sunlight.
“FELICITY!” the voice was closer, growing with hysteria. I stood, finally, smiling. And turned the corner of the big oak to see my sister, searching desperately.
“Helena” I called, happiness pulling at the corners of my mouth. Her head whipped around and she broke into a dead sprint, tackling me into a hug.
“Where have you been?!” she clamped down on my shoulders, searching deep into my eyes for an explanation.
“Happy.” I responded lightly, and she hugged me, flooding with relief. I was still smiling, and the sun was still shining. Growing brighter and brighter, and climbing ever so high, to spread the warmth of its light to the rest of the earth’s children.