Butterfly Dust (Short Story)

Photo by Karina Vorozheeva

On the 234th day of every year, the world shines bright. And of course, this year was no exception. It’s the night of dreams—the night where the butterflies we have in our hearts come out of their chrysalis and can be released into the world above. 

I stand in the park, hidden in the corner. All of us still with our dreams were here: butterfly night was not one to miss, at least when you were still allowed to come. 

I remember back so many years, when Dawn was still here. “I’m doing it tonight. You should do it too,” she had whispered to me. “Before we have to wait another year.”

“I can’t,” I had said. The fear back then for me was too great; I’d never dare let my butterfly go.

She was one of the first from my class to do it. She followed the path it took her down, her dreams she blindly chased through the dark. The white winged insect she once had now glowed with fire and trailed orange-yellow sparks around her. It took her to her dreams, but her dreams were not on the same path that I took. She does not stand next to me today.

Many of my classmates had let their butterflies fly away long ago, all of them chasing the dreams that take them down paths they may have never imagined before. Most of them are better people because of it, their butterflies taking shape, becoming swirls of color and beauty, but some have still been led down the wrong path. 

As I stand here, I can’t help but think the ever-growing collection of doubts in my head. I’m afraid to let the one inside of me out into the world. What if it turns dark and doesn’t ever glow? What if it leads me away from everything I know and love? What if it dies within the first year?

How can you just let the most precious thing you have into the world? But how can you not?

“You can do this,” Dawn would’ve said. “And if that’s not enough, I triple dog dare you.” At least, that’s what she said that night when she was here.

I smile thinking of that. Dawn was always a bold one. But she cared about me too.

“All right. I accept.” 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I dare to dream. Dare to shine a light. 

I let my butterfly fly into the sky above. I open my eyes. And I run after it, following the path it will take me to, leaving the white dust of my dreams in my wake.