Fly, Butterfly, Fly

Like any other child of six, I wandered around my house trying to find a good hiding spot before my sister Yessenia yelled: “Ready or not, here I come!” I quickly ran upstairs and hid behind the beige linen curtain that was in front of a giant round window in the living room. Suddenly, I came across a little tiny golden butterfly. The butterfly, which could barely move its tiny legs, lay upside down near the corner of the window. I could hear my sister’s heavy footsteps, as she raced every stair step. I then revealed myself. “Mira, una mariposa!” (“Look, a butterfly!”) I said, pointing to the butterfly. “Let’s keep it!” she said enthusiastically.

I was very happy to know that my sister wanted to keep the butterfly as much as I did. We then both agreed on naming the butterfly “Mariposa,” because anything that ends with the letter “a” in Spanish was referred to a girl. My mother, Maria, was very picky about us grabbing insects. My sister and I knew that if my mom found out we were grabbing the butterfly she will smack our hands. As a result of that, my sister ordered me to look for a piece of notebook paper. Since I usually always obeyed everything that my older sister told me to do, I rushed to my room and looked inside my pink backpack. As soon as I had the paper, I scooped the butterfly on top of it so I wouldn’t touch it. Yessenia and I noticed that the butterfly’s left wing was broken. We knew the butterfly needed help. We knew the butterfly couldn’t fly. We knew what we were going to do for the remainder of the day.

My sister was the doctor and I was the nurse. It was late afternoon when my mother yelled my sister’s name. We were still in the living room. “I am coming!” Yessenia yelled back. As soon as my sister was out-of-sight, I got curious to know what would happen if I dropped the butterfly from my height. In an attempt to see the butterfly spread its wings and fly, I said “Fly, butterfly, fly!” letting the butterfly slide from the piece of paper. The butterfly did not fly as I expected, but rather dropped to the solid floor. I quickly picked her up by the wings and then I realized that she had left golden powdery glitter in my fingers. I then placed the butterfly back in the paper, and attached the corners of the paper together, so the butterfly could stay inside and not get lost. After that, I rushed downstairs to look for food for my butterfly.

It started to get late and everything started to look orange. I remember my mother was wearing a blue shirt and green shorts, when she spotted me cutting off one of her beautiful peach-colored flowers. I was afraid she was going to yell at me. My mother was outside picking up the dishes she had left to dry in the patio’s built-in washboard sink. “What do you have there?” my mother asked curiously. “My pet butterfly,” I responded. “Don’t be silly,” she said. After that, she grabbed the dishes that she had placed in an ice bucket and left inside the house. I then picked up an empty Jaritto (a plastic soda container), which lay on the floor, and then I walked upstairs to my room. As soon as I got to my bed, I took off my white tennis shoes and dropped them on the floor. I placed the flower on my pillow and Mariposa on top of the flower so she could start eating. My sister then walked into the room. As soon as she sat on the bed, Mariposa went missing.

I was very upset at my sister. It took me awhile to find Mariposa but I did. “I told you. I knew you were going to find her!” Yessenia said, rolling her eyes at me. Subsequently, I realized that my butterfly was missing two legs. It was dark outside and time for me to go to bed. I placed the flower inside the Jarrito container, and then I dropped the butterfly there so she could be comfortable. I closed the Jaritto’s lid tightly so Mariposa could be safe, but mainly because I did not want to her to go missing the next day. But little did I know, Mariposa did not fly the next day.