Disclaimer- this story is not fact-based.
Sometimes I wonder how things look like from the Above…
Sitting on a flat green surface, I strain to see the world through the tiny water blobs that coat its peripheral. An array of blurred but vibrant colours tease me from the corners of my twelve eyes; blues, reds, pinks, and many more soft, velvety pigmentations positioned beyond my reach. Loud noises coming from my surroundings provoke my newly founded curiosity and I feel the desire to follow their sources from the Above. The magnificent deliciousness beneath me is slippery and I struggle to keep myself stable. Sprays of wetness rain upon me incessantly from somewhere out in front and I patiently wait for them to pause so that I can resume my feast.
The wetness framing the borders of my rough bed will dry eventually once the light goes dim and the noises finally soften. I continue chewing onto the lush and crunchy delight that I sit upon, creeping about to places where my food is richer and greener. Thank the Above, the hissy fit of water finally comes to an end, which marks the time for my daily nap.
I cannot remember how long, but all I know is that I have been shifting from green to green for my entire existence. Sometimes I even imagine seeing another hairy one— another of my kind— from the rims of my tiny eyes. They, however, do not spare me a glance. Everyone is caught up with their own work and I always feel like the odd one out- the one who is wishfully pondering about how it would feel to have wings and soar through the Above.
It feels as if I was made to do something else, but I haven’t quite reached it yet. It feels as if my life is simply a haze of events that will soon fade away. All I wish to do is look upon the world from up high. Oh, how it would look, I wonder! But it is just a dream, I remind myself—to suddenly gain wings and soar around the world—how silly.
Once I wake, I leech onto a second leaf to complete my meal, squirming from one end to the other. I start eating by habit and doze off again for about an hour.
The pause in noises only last a crawl of passing time, and in a matter of moments the Above is bright again. Colours, so many colours! It is all beautiful from where I can see till, until water starts drenching me like every other day.
One day, I take on another routine instinctively. I find myself wriggling onto of the protuberances that juts out from the plant beneath me. I start to find a way to hang upside down from it. I move with a purpose, a purpose that drives me away from my thoughts until the task is accomplished. Little do I know what this purpose is.
I let myself do whatever it is I try to do. The next thing I know, I have formed a soft cushion of silk on the brown stick that I hang from. The Above is now the Below, and I am terribly confused.
I tune in and out of the world— voices come and go, the day brightens and darkens; all the while I continue making this white fluid bubble, and in the corner of my tiny mind I know it has been a long, long time since I have had a taste of food.
I shed my hairy skin, and envelope myself with silk. Two weeks later, I am fully cocooned within a sticky, yet amazingly comfortable white sack. When I am done with my work, I allow myself to marvel over my bizarre creation.
Confused still, although strangely calm, I can hear the noises outside fade into dull vibrations and I snuggle into my pale wrappings. The world outside is barely visible through the thin fabric.
Perhaps this is the end of my terrible, long existence. Perhaps I will never get to explore the world, and perhaps the Above doesn’t even exist! All I know is that this is meant to happen, whatever this is— and I have faith in myself to succeed.
I was created to eat leaves, not examine confusing colors. It will be best if I remember that, like the rest of my folk do. It was never right to hope for something beyond.
I had made up a place called the Above because I knew and will always question all the powerful knowledge that is beyond my reach. Giving it a name made it easier to comprehend the unknown, but there are some things beyond one’s imagination. I am a creature of little use. These insights are not meant for me to ponder upon.
Suddenly, a noxiously scented stench climbs at me from my tight surroundings. I feel something intensely severe tickle my hairy skin. I am wrapped up and restrained in these silky wrappings, but I remain still and let fate play its hands.
I can endure this pain.
Little do I know that one’s dreams exist only to push them toward the changes that wait to
be sparked.
I soon fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The curious caterpillar remains in its cocoon for about a week, readying itself for its final stage of metamorphosis.
The cool hard ball hangs from the branch of the plant. A few passing children pause to gaze at the beauty of nature excitedly. Their parents gently explain to them what takes place now.
“Mama, look! It’s coming out!” A little girl jumps up and down as a crowd gathers behind her. They all wait expectedly.
Suddenly, an orangish-brown wing emerges, and the people gasp as their eyes widen and they hold their breaths.
Another wing pops out, the same colour as before, its wing golden hued and lightly speckled with black dots. A great, beautiful creature is exposed, untangling itself from its newly formed body. Its wings are soft and delicate, not entirely formed yet, and the creature clings to its fully cracked ball— which now hangs limp—between its tiny legs.
The creature is breathtaking, its body streaked with shades of amber, fading into a slight mustard yellow at the bottom. White spots dot each of its forewings and blue dots mark each underside. Radiant beams from the sun merge with the colours of the insect; the vivacious creature basks in the sunlight.
“It’s a butterfly!” the children squeal with delight as they gaze at the magnificent insect with awe. “It’s exquisite,” murmured adults. If only they’d known the caterpillar within, which had been even more beautiful.
The butterfly rustles its wings cautiously, getting used to a new body. “What is it going to do now?” wondered the little girl to her mother.
“Honey, it’s going to soar.”