Paper Butterflies

• Samantha Turner-Thompson, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2009

Dear Carmen,
I hope you’re feeling well. I’m alright but it’s lonesome on my own. There’s a lot of butterflies though. I wish you could see them. Maybe I could send you one or two.
Love from Melissa.

Carmen flicked through the more recent letters, faded pinks and purples with bright sparkling writing and smiling faces on the stamps.

Dear Carmen, the next one read,
It’s getting kind of boring here. How’s school? I was talking to the other kids and they said you know you’ve been at the hospital too long when you start missing school. It’s true. Some of my friends visited me, but still, I wish I could get out of here.
Love from Melissa.

Dear Carmen,
The doctors say I’ve got to stay. The tests weren’t good apparently. Remember when we used to climb that old maple tree? I hope I can come visit you soon.
Dear Carmen,
Remember when I said I would send you a butterfly? I didn’t want to hurt them so instead I made my own. It’s almost as pretty as the real ones. You’ll be amazed when you see them for yourself.

Carmen sighed and put the letter in the box with the others. With a whispering whoosh, something fell into her lap. A pristine little butterfly with delicate wings adorned with cellophane and a body that glittered like jewels. Fumbling Carmen seized another letter, and another. More butterflies. One was so large, the size of a dinnerplate and was in a particularly bulky envelope, upon which was written July 14, 2008.
Dear Carmen,
Look at this! I used as much glitter as I could find. There’s no more coloured paper though so there won’t be any more butterflies for a while. Will you come soon? A lot of the friends I made have gone home. Maybe I will too.
Love from Melissa.

Sitting on the carpet floor of her bedroom, surrounded by what seemed a hundred or so butterflies, Carmen felt the sadness welling again. That was Melissa’s last letter. After that she’d just gotten sicker. It had been almost a year since she passed away. Carmen remembered all the letters she’d sent back. They didn’t seem to mean much anymore.

Dear Melissa,
Sorry I can’t come. I have a whole lot of homework-
Dear Melissa,
Not this time. There’s exams coming up-
Dear Melissa,
My friend’s birthday party’s on this weekend-
Dear Melissa…

Tears began welling in her eyes, stinging then sliding down her cheeks. Arms full of glossy butterflies, she headed outside to the maple tree, its honey-coloured leaves had already fallen. Carefully, twine and string she hung the butterflies from the branches. They almost seemed to flutter, but that surely was the wind. Carmen felt for the right words, literally, in her pocket. She lifted out the letter. The one she’d never got to send.
Dear Melissa,
I’m coming! I can’t wait to see you again! Keep the hope. I’m almost there! I miss you…