No Longer

by Mikitiyk Nastia

“Catch it!” – exclaimed she, laughing and throwing it up.
“Come on, bore, you’re so slow!” – She was running around me, jumping periodically and singing passages from the silly children’s song, probably from the cartoon or whatever:
Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap, Bar of soap
For I'd slippy and I'd slidy
 Over everybody's hidey
 Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap.
She was so young and so light-hearted. You will never find a girl who is so beautiful in all meanings of this word. Her golden curls didn’t reach her tiny shoulders, amusingly twisted, beckoned to touch them, spin on the fingers and admire. It was like I wanted to smile all the time she was near me making my world better every day. She did use to wear flowery, colorful dresses, tie a ribbon on her hand (which always matched to her dress), put on white lace socks and pretty little green shoes. She hated dark colors, always wore all shades of red, pink, blue and yellow. Once I asked her why she likes to be so bright: “Do you want to attract attention to yourself?” She looked at me seriously and answered: “I don’t want these boring dark colors to exist in my world full of sunshine and joy. What are they for at all? You, adults are so bores!” She always was nice and pretty, smiling, wished everyone a good day and waved her hand like all queens used to. This little girl was my little princess, a little queen. I wanted to spend my time with her and she always was pleased to see me on her yard. “Hello, would you like to play with me today? I’m going to drink some tea with my girls” – She always asked me and pointed to the toy table, where were usually sitting her Barbies. “How was your day?” – She used to say, carefully pouring imagined tea in the little pink cup. “It’s fine” – I usually answered. “Oh no, you did have to say – I am very good, thank you! Why are you, adults, so ill-mannered?” – She usually exclaimed. I can’t say we were best friends, no. She had many mates her age and I was little jealous seeing her playing with them. At the same time, of course I understood we can’t be together.
Not long ago I realized I haven’t seen her for a while. I’ve been looking for her for a few days but she disappeared like a little butterfly, flew away to the sun. Not long ago I woke up.
* * *
“You may take your son home” – said nurse. “Your husband has already taken the list of the meds he needs to take every day. Is everything clear to you?”
“Yes, madam, thank you” – quietly said little woman. She was holding the handle of the wheelchair with a boy on it. “Come on, my dear” – she whispered and pushed the wheelchair forward to the exit.
They were at home, when he opened his eyes and the first thing he said was:”Mom, where is she?” The little woman was sitting near him, napping but his words immediately awakened her. She looked at him and timidly smiled. “Where is she?” – He asked again. “Don’t worry, my boy. You will meet her again very soon” – and the woman held his hand till he fell asleep again.
When she went out of the room it was a deep night. Quietly entered the bedroom, she was afraid to awake her husband. She put on her sleepwear and went to bed. No sooner she dropped her head on the pillow he said: “Did he see her again?” The minute of the silence seemed to her as an age. “He did” – she answered and felt his warm hand on hers.
* * *
Now I feel like a butterfly too. I’m flying and flying above my city, my house. I can see my mother: she is standing in the yard searchingly looking at the sky.  “Hey, mom, can you see me?” – I’m flying around you, but she doesn’t clapped her eyes on me, just keep looking above. I see my friend. She is a butterfly too, but actually she is more beautiful than me: great red-yellow wings with blue drops are sparkling and shimmering on the sun rays. “Come with me!” – She sang to me, - “Don’t be so bore!” And I can’t make my head against; my wings are taking me following her.
* * *
“Where are you, my son?”