A butterfly

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It's hard to wake up this morning. I barely have enough strength to get out of bed. I'm not well. I feel sick. But I have to make breakfast for mom and go to work.

- Happy, will you take my letter today?

Oh, right. I forgot.

- Yes mom, promise.

I'm pretty sure that Wayne doesn't even receive those letters. And if he does, he doesn't even bother to open them. But this seems to be so important to mom. She gives me a goodbye kiss and I promise to mail the letter. I don't want to disappoint her. I get my bag ready with my clothes and make up, tuck the letter inside, put on a coat and leave. 

I walk down the never ending stairs and start my every day road. Men seem to be governed by a strange law that makes them get up again every morning and keep on going, even when facing all adversity...as if at the end of the road a castle on a cloud awaited them.

In the subway I sit next to a man holding a newspaper. As usual these days, Thomas Wayne is on the cover.

"Conference of candidate Wayne at the Town Hall today"

This gives me an idea.

- You laugh too much- Hoyt complains.

I was about to leave work when the boss called me to his office.

- But I'm a clown.- I explain - Clowns are supposed to laugh, aren't they?-

- YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!

I am polite and always speak to everyone with respect. But Hoyt seems to think that he constantly needs to yell at me.

- I do everything the clients ask of me.

- You stole a balloon the other day!

- I didn't steal anything...I...what is this all about?

- Listen, Arthur...some clients think you are weird. They feel uneasy around you.

- ...I try to do my job the best I can...

- Look...it's getting harder and harder for me to allocate you to a client. The thing at the mall didn't work out the way we hoped.

- I could do children's parties.

- Ah, for God's sake, Arthur...alright, alright...look I'll try to find you something. But if you can't control your laughing fits, everything becomes harder.

Control my laughing fits?? Does Hoyt think I'm like this by choice?? That I deliberately decided to have this condition??

- I await you tomorrow. Now get out of here.

The Town Hall is not far. If I really want mom's letters to get to Wayne, I can't keep mailing them, that doesn't work. I must give it to him in person.

I sit down on a concrete bench and wait. I hold the letter firmly in my hands and stay on the lookout for any sign of Thomas Wayne. Two hours go by. Several people walk by but none of them are Wayne. The afternoon nears its end. I feel weak, I'm very cold and my sweater doesn't keep me warm enough. But I must wait, I must do it for mom. Another hour goes by and my body starts shivering with cold. I try to warm myself up rubbing my hands together. The wind hits my face and I start to cough. Then, suddenly, I see a lot of movement. A group of black cars drive in and park in a row. Several men descend, all dressed in black. And in between I recognize him, Mr. Wayne! He's sorrounded by bodyguards and a large group of journalists walk up to him. There's just s few feet between him and the entry to the Town Hall. This is my only chance. I get up and run towards him.

- Wait! Mr. Wayne!

But with all the commotion around him, he doesn't hear me. I run faster.

- Mr. Wa-

I trip over my own feet and I fall hard on the concrete floor. It takes me a moment to realize what happened. I lift my head, searching for Mr. Wayne and see him already entering the door, followed by his bodyguards. I lost my chance. Damn it!

I pick myself up and retrieve the letter that escaped from my hands upon falling. I feel pain in my leg. I realize I hurt my knee and my trousers are teared. I also scraped my hands as I tried to stop myself from falling. Though what hurts me the most is that I have failed mom...

There's no uglier feeling than having to return home defeated every day.

- Happy, did you send the letter?- mom asks as soon as she hears me come in.

I head to the bedroom and greet her with a kiss.

- Yes, mom...I left it at the post office...

Tonight I have no strength to write down my thoughts. My whole body hurts. I take a shower and drop myself on the couch in the living room where I watch TV.

Knock knock.

I recognize that soft, almost shy sound. I get up, open the door and see the only thing that could brighten my day.

- Hi Arthur!

Her enormous eyes always shine with genuine happiness.

- Hello Gigi- I greet. I realize she's wearing her pajamas and carries a teddy bear.

- Why are you up so late?- I ask.

She laughs with a naughty expression.

- Do you like cookies?- she asks.

She tucks her hand into her pocket, pulls out a chocolate cookie and offers it to me.

- Yes, I do.

I take the cookie in my hand. A coughing fit befalls me and I cover my mouth with my elbow until it stops.

- Are you sick?- she asks and I can see the concern on her face. Throughout the entire day, she is the first one to notice.

- Just a little - I say to her - But with this cookie I will surely feel better!-

She looks at me with that sweet face and then her eyes stop on my hands.

- What happened to you, Arthur?

- Oh...I fell...

- Does it hurt?

- Not so much anymore...

I smile knowing that someone cares so much about me.

- I must go to bed now...

- That's ok. Thank you for the cookie.

- Bye Arthur, sweet dreams!

- Sweet dreams, Gigi.

Gigi's visits become a part of my routine. She comes at the end of every day to wish me good night before going to sleep. Sometimes she comes with a surprise and sometimes simply with a smile. I don't know to what I owe the  priviledge of her visits. I just know that they do me well...they make me feel loved.

- How have you been, Arthur?

I light the first cigarette of the session. I smile.

- I have a friend.

The social worker looks at me in surprise.

- Do you want to tell me about that?

- She's the only person who sees me...

- Who is she?

- A little girl.

- I understand...you say she is the only person who sees you. What do you mean by that?

- When I look at myself in the mirror, I don't see anything but a caterpillar... but she perceives the butterfly within.

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