Mia had always loved sunrises. The sun’s warm, bold rays banishing the darkness of the night. But now each new day filled her with trepidation as her impending fate consumed her waking hours. Her mother had told her that she was not to fear, that death was just another part of life, and she would be transformed into a higher and stronger more beautiful life form.
The first time the pain had started she had tried to hide it from her husband. But then, one horrible day, she awoke surrounded by blackness as if the sun’s bright face had been blotted out. The muscle contractions caused her body to twitch and writhe painfully as she lay on the cold hard ground. When the exhausting process reached its zenith, suddenly the convulsions ended. She lay quite still. Tentatively, she took a deep breath and fresh fragrant air filled her lungs. A warm brightness flooded her vision, and as she became stronger, she rose into the air, and soared up though the trees, while bees buzzed around her and birds sang. At the very top of the beech tree, she balanced herself on a slim brown branch.
“Mia!” a familiar voice rang out. She pivoted like a ballerina, and as she twirled, her husband alighted on the branch next to her. He looked at her with admiration glowing in his eyes. “The metamorphosis is now complete, you’re the prettiest butterfly!”
Mia’s delicate wings that displayed intricate patterns of bright red, orange and yellow vibrated in response and gently brushed against her husband’s wings of bright blue with bold black spots. Together they flew across the tops of the trees, their striking red and blue colours streaking across the face of the rising sun.