I stared at my 5 years old form, running after a butterfly. That's the butterfly I caught and kept it with me. I took great care of It. I gave it my full love and attention. But still, It died. I cried so much when it died. That's when my mother told me that some things need freedom more than affection. I tried to stop my child self to catch it, But it was too late. The butterfly was caught.
I felt dejected by the butterfly and turned away.
I saw my 15 year old self. I was trying to save the injured bird on the window next to my balcony. The window was fixed so, the only way to save that poor life is through the balcony. I can't see it in so much misery. I leaned on the railing and tried to approach the bird. The moment I moved a little closer, I slipped and fell from the balcony and crashed into the bench that was on the lower floor. I smiled when I looked at this because the last words escape my lips were,
