A Ballad for the Lost

two

"I swear Anya, he grabbed my hand!" I exclaimed.

"I would believe you, but Peter hasn't willingly made physical contact with anyone. Ever." She replied, sighing. "Maybe you should get some fresh air, you know, to clear your mind. You can take Peter with you."

I nodded. "Okay." So she walked to Peter's room with me and opened the door.

"Mary-Jane's gonna take you outside," said Anya, "c'mon." Slowly Peter slid off the bed, but his eyes met neither of ours, instead kept fixed on the ground. He came and stood right next to me. He was fiddling with his hands again. "There we go, now I'll leave it to you two." And Anya left.

"Come with me," I said simply, avoiding as much interaction as possible.

He did as I said, walking right by my side without a word. As always.

The hospital was right across from a park, so that's where we went. I sat under the shade of a tree, watching him walk around. He sat by the fountain, sticking his hand in the water. Then he moved to a bush. He sat there for a long time doing something I couldn't see. For a long time, I waited for him to do something else. He just sat there, busy with something. Eventually, I found my way to see what he was doing.

He had a butterfly in his hand. And he was watching it very intently.

And it never flew away.