Red is a Common Color

A warm breeze brushes my shoulders as I bike down 15th street. It might sound weird, but I'm on a quest to find a butterfly. I want to find the prettiest one. The most delicate one with fragile wings. It's a steamy hot day so surely, they should be out there somewhere.      

As the wind plays with my hair, I think about her. Her bright eyes wander through my mind. The way she laughed every time it rained. "God's peeing!" She would scream at the top of her lungs. Her smile was a disease if you caught a glance you wouldn't stop smiling yourself.      

The sun glares down my back so I stop to take a sip of the water my mother insisted on me taking.     

"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna kill you!" she yelled as I walked out the front door     

"I hope it does!" I yelled back.    

I could almost hear her let out a sigh from a mile away. It's hard to not be so cold. I know it pains her too, but I'm not sure she knows how I feel. I get back on my bike and start racing the cars from the sidewalk. A red car drives by and I almost keep a steady pace for a few seconds. 

I imagine her red hair I envied so much. Jealously dripped from my eyes as soon as I saw her come home from the hospital. Her soft baby face matched her red hair perfectly. Growing up with her wasn't pain like it is with most sisters. She was the water that helped me grow from a seed.    

As I keep my eyes wide open I see her friend throwing out the trash. I notice how her eyes are still red. Still heartbroken. Her lips form a smile and I smile back. We have never really talked before.   

I keep on riding and take a quick glance back to see if she's still there. She is. I can see her tears shining with the sun's help.   

How can I be strong when everyone around me is dissolving into sadness?  

I pass the tree that once told the truth. We were little and out on an "adventure". This tree was where she broke her arm. We both tried to climb it limb by limb, but she lost grip. We rushed home and terror filled my mother's eyes when she saw.   

The doctors did a full check up on her. They saw her blood wasn't pure. It was cancer.   

Even if it takes all day, I'm going to find the perfect butterfly. I want to find the right one. The one that flutters by with a smile.     

I get back on my bike and fly through the streets. How can I attract a butterfly? Silvia could. Her red hair would look like roses to them.    

My mind swims in an ocean full of memories. She would call herself princess Ariel. She wasn't wrong, just add a tail and they would be twins.   

A wave of heat flows over me and makes my hair frizz up. I hate this weather.   

She loved to paint. Her hand moved so perfectly with a paintbrush entangled between her fingers. There weren't enough things in this world for her to paint. She hung them all over the house. I used to get annoyed by seeing them everywhere. Now I stare at each one imagining what could have been going inside that little brain of hers as she stroked each paper.  

 She loved watching movies. She only watched movies with happy endings. When I asked her why she said: “Because it's fun to imagine a happy life”. Even at a young age, she knew that happy ever after wasn’t always real. How does a kid handle that? Cancer taught her that lesson. 

I remember the day she left. God wasn't peeing that day he was crying. Lonely days get lonelier with rain. She passed away? No that could never happen. Right?  

I stop at a bright red stop sign and wait for happy families to pass by. I wish.   

They say time heals. It never does. It just hurts more as time passes. What if I could just get one more hug? One more smile? 

She would have jelly beans all day long. The red ones were her favorite. Little bags of jelly beans would be stored all over her room. I still find them sometimes when I go into her room looking for hope.   

One time she accidentally sat on them and her jeans were ruined. It was hilarious!   

I wonder where she is right now. What is she doing? Probably painting and eating jellybeans. I hope she's happy where she is. I hope she knows how much I miss her. How much her leaving affected everyone. I miss her contagious smile. I look up at the sky and almost map out her face in the clouds. Even through the white, I imagine her red hair shining like the sun.  

There it is. The wings move in a special rhythm. It looks beautiful playing around with the petals on the flower. I rest my bike on the grass and sneak up behind it. Up close it has magically colors painted onto its wings. It’s the color of a cherry. My eyes blur up and it reminds me of Silvia. With some struggle, I finally capture it with my sweaty fingers. Then I kill it.   

The world took the most beautiful thing away from my life so I did the same to the world. This is my way of stitching my broken heart. I couldn’t protect her.  

I don't know if this makes me the villain. Or the hero. I know it's terrible, but I wanna ask the world: why did you kill my sister? My happiness.  

Its wings fall apart and I crumple the body. I hold it in my left hand and dig a hole with my right. It was buried with love.