Chasing the Stars

The Dance of the Butterflies

It had been three days since the major bombing. I'd scampered out of the bomb shelter as soon as allowed, seeing the devastating wreckage left behind, before pondering for hours on where best to search for them. I'd decided to travel to our holiday home in Switzerland, as it was one our favourite places and held a lot of fond memories of berries smeared across bodies, ice cream dripping down chins, scars from falling out of trees, and childhood friends made of snow, and I remember my parents mentioning going there if the war ever hit us. The holiday home seemed to be the only place where my family would ever find peace. Those were the nights where sleep came silent, and the silence wasn't violent.

I'd left Berlin two days ago, after scavenging as much of my money and belongings I could find from my wreckage of a house, idiotically hoping to find my family there, or anywhere else in Berlin. I'd visited every safe house and place accepting people if their house had been destroyed but I didn't find them. There were no hidden messages. I was left alone, but I would find them again, if it was the last thing I do before I die.

I had caught a bus, leading me out of the city and in to the middle of the countryside. I would have caught a train or plane if it wasn't that the first attack had exploded both the airport and the major train station; at least I got to see some nature now. Although I lived in the middle of one of the biggest cities in Germany, I still felt safer and more at home out in nature, where only the sun and wind could dictate my directions. Following my natural instincts and living with the animals as my dearest friends, instead of the race that has plagued this world, yet calls itself the creators. The bus had ended in a small village so deserted my only way to go anywhere was by foot. I'd been walking ever since. No one would pick up any hitch hikers at the moment anyway, we could be the enemy, whoever you considered that to be, and it wasn't as if I'd seen many cars anyway.

It was getting late so I decided to leave to road and enter the forest to sleep, hopefully finding somewhere nice to set up camp. It wasn't as if I needed much space, only having one rucksack, filled with a tent and a sleeping bag, which I'd stolen from my neighbours' house, as they were avid campers who ran some sort of scout group. I'd packed as much imperishable food as I could find, and as many bottles of water as I could carry, filling them up in streams whenever I had the chance. I also had a map of Germany, about 100 Euros and my passport.

The journey through the forest was relatively peaceful. The harmony of birds chirping in the crisp, autumn air as leaves rustled, painting sceneries of love and hate, and untold tales on the ground. I could feel the branches snapping under my feet and whipping against my skin, yet finding peace in the soft sensations. A distant draft of pollution and smoke wafted past me, blending with the damp, musky smell of the forest to create something unique, which tickled your senses like a thousand ants crawling up your skin.

The forest started to dissipate, opening up into a beautiful field. The peace it radiated taking my breath away, as my eyes scanned the horizon and meadow. There where uncountable amounts of wild flowers, ranging from dandelions and daisies, to orchids and vibrant yellow hawkweed, the grass tickling me under my knees. The setting sun providing the atmosphere of a fairy tale, made from love, peace and joy. I took a step into the grass, setting a kaleidoscope of butterflies off into the air, their fluttering wings beating in tune to make music.

A rush of immense joy swept over me. Before I could process what I was doing my rucksack was lying on the ground, and my feet were running beneath me, arms flapping at my side. It was if I had become one with the butterflies, becoming the centre piece of a performance to the wild. The wind was racing around me, guiding me, as the grass swayed, and the crickets chirped like an audience applauding. The clouds where rushing down towards me. I could feel the world shrinking underneath my feet, the trees shrinking to look like small pieces of broccoli. I watched as I towered up over the world, my feet annihilating acres of land every time I followed the butterflies in their intricate dance. Power surging, heart beats rising, the earth silently quaking. For once I felt free, like this was what I was meant to be doing with my life instead of shrinking under the oppressive powers of society, yet for once though I was the one crushing them, building my life to live in sempiternal joy, instead of lost in their maze. My laughter filled the universe.

Disturbed by the sudden noise change, the birds started screeching from all corners of the earth, a pandemonium of sound, ruining the soundtrack of the dance, disrupting the thrum of the butterflies. I couldn't have this! How dare they interrupt the moment of the century, how dare they interrupt this dance, How dare they interrupt me! A roar of pain erupted from my mouth, snapping the wings of the birds off in a rage of strength.

Then it was all gone. The butterflies drifting away .My body left askew in the grass. My heart was racing. My eyes closing as the panic ended.