There was a knock at the door. Although this door can hardly be considered a conventional door. It has a blue doorframe. This makes it special, because special is within the eye of the beholder. This beholder, is a special six-year-old. Again, special would be her way of putting it, because the way others put it wasn’t very nice. At least she thought it wasn’t. Most people called her scatterbrain, except for Lucas, who called her bird brain. She had said she was thankful for him saying she’s a birdbrain in front of the whole class for thanksgiving. They laughed at her. But she could understand that. No one ever called them scatterbrain, so they didn’t know how special the term bird brain was.
Right now, however, it was she who branded herself scatterbrain, because she had completely forgotten about the knock on the door. And the doorframe. The blue doorframe. Was it true that there was more than one name for a color? She had heard someone call green ‘pistachio’. Pistachios are nice. But pistachio ice cream is the best...scatterbrain. Stop it. “Lila? Why are you licking your lips?” “Because…I’m sorry, but I don’t really remember. Why were you knocking? Sorry if you already told me, I forget things easily.” “Oh, don’t be sorry love. I was just checking on you. Aren’t you bored just sitting there? I can bring you some paper to draw on.” She thought for a moment. “Yes please, but could you also bring pens? I don’t know how to draw without those, and I think you wouldn’t really have time to teach me.” “Excuse me, teach you what exactly?” “How to draw without pens.” The worker looked a bit confused but she went to get the paper. In that time she tried to think of something to draw. Maybe she could draw herself. No, that’s too boring. Maybe she could draw something she wanted to be? But there wasn’t much she wanted to be. Except maybe a mermaid. But that’s also boring. Maybe something like a metaphor? The worker came in. “Here’s your paper and a pen.” “Oh! Thanks. I didn’t know you were bringing paper.” The worker looked confused again. Again? This was the first time, wasn’t it? Oh well. The worker left either way. That’s a shame. She forgot to ask what a bird’s brain looked like. Why did she want to ask that though? Oh, right, the metaphor. That’s ok. She can just draw a rainbow instead. Her new family will like rainbows, right? Everyone likes rainbows. She continued thinking as her hands started to draw. Why was she making something for them? Hmm. Maybe because the people you give things to are nice to you. Lucas was nice when she gave him her chocolate. The next day he wasn’t though. Maybe if she drew a story, and gave the new family one page every day, they would be nice to her all the time. Well, she didn’t really have enough paper for that, but she can make more pages when she gets to the new house.
This dream was so strange. She wasn’t like anyone else so she didn’t really like this dream as much as everybody else. They probably only liked it because they didn’t know it was a dream. They didn’t know that this, everything, was just a dream. Or maybe they did know, but pretended not to. She could understand why someone would do that. Most people think dreams aren’t real, so if they admitted that all this was a dream, then they wouldn’t be real. But why would it be sad not to be real? At least to her, it seemed like fun. It would mean she could do anything. It would mean that the nice things that happen always stay in someone’s memory, even if that someone isn’t her. It would also mean that all the sad things don’t matter, because that someone can just choose to forget them. Maybe this was why grandma used to pray to god. Maybe she thought god was that someone. Maybe she thought he could help her forget all the bad things that happened to her, and let the good things stay. That’s also a nice idea, but she didn’t want to pray. She didn’t want to try and make that dreaming somebody like her more than others. That would be unfair. Also, it would make the dream boring.
She looked down at what she had drawn. It was a rainbow with an old man who was looking at it. The old man had a cane. Why did he have a cane? Maybe he was blind. Maybe he tried to reach for the rainbow and the sun burned his eyes. Hmm. She didn’t want an evil rainbow. Was it evil to not want to be caught? Maybe the man was evil. Hmm, no. He only tried to be happy. How about the sun then? No. The sun probably didn’t even know he was there. Oh well. It’s ok. This dream belongs to her, so that doesn’t matter. She drew a rainbow into the man’s heart. There we go.
She was bored. Drawing isn’t that fun. She looked at the wall and went on thinking. Someone had told her that this world was the dream of a butterfly. That would also be nice. Butterflies aren’t as cruel as children. She was a child. She was probably also cruel. Is there a way to wake up though? She thought for a while. She was special, just like butterflies. Just like the doorframe. Maybe she just had to bring these things together. She took the pen and drew a butterfly on the doorframe. Nothing happened. She went back to drawing.
Sometime later, a man was introduced to her. Her new dad. She was tired, but she did her best to give a warm welcome. They were introduced to each other. Then they talked a bit. He had nice eyes. They were brown. Maybe the other name for brown is almond. That would be nice.
They walked out together, through the blue doorframe, and the corridor, and after a while, they stepped out of the big gate. He held her hand while they walked across the zebra crossing. Just this crossing and they will reach the parking lot. There was a car. It was a little fast. No, it was too fast. So fast that she only realised the pain after she had stopped flying.
People started to crowd around her. One of them asked why she was smiling. That made her add teeth to the smile.
That was what it took to be a butterfly. Simply to fly. The pain stopped then. She woke up. But she told herself that she would spend another moment with her eyes closed. Spend another moment smiling. In a silence filled only by her.