The small boy sat alone in the middle of the empty meadow. His hair— a mix of bright green and mint, drifted gently in the wind as it whispered the songs that only he could hear. Tall green grass danced to its tune, moving in rhythm with nature’s calming symphony. In these serene moments of solitude, the boy felt at one with his environment. He dug his hands into the dirt, letting his fingers sink into the cool soil. He savored the sensation as grains slipped in and out of his hands. He let out a slow, content breath. His chest rose and fell in harmony with the world around him. Yellow dandelions dotted the surrounding, their golden petals glowing underneath the bright sun.

  The boy’s feet dangled over the edge of the cliff, as his legs swayed to the tempo of the breeze. He let his back fall back onto the grass, his arms spread wide as he stared up at the sky. The great blue expanse was littered with fluffs of white. He spent some time humming a melody of his childhood as he counted each and every cloud. A bird swooped down, perching itself onto his shoulder, he tried to sing with it, but his pitch was clumsy and unrefined. The bird gave a confused tilt of its head before the small creature flew back into the sky.

  Disheartened, he turned his attention towards a butterfly resting against a dandelion. It travelled innocently from one flower to another. It was just like him, living an aimless life. They were both born to serve a purpose, a purpose that ultimately held no meaning to him. Slowly, he watched that butterfly land on his nose. He tried to brush it away out of instinct, but the butterfly gracefully dodged his hand. His childlike innocence took over, and he extended his pointer finger, letting the butterfly land on it. He sat in silence for a minute, as he stared at the unmoving butterfly, its orange wings a striking thing of beauty compared to its hideous insect-like body.

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  After a minute passed, the butterfly had lost all of its patience. Once again, its wings flapped, and it fluttered over the cliff, venturing into the great distance.

  The boy looked at the butterfly as it faded away. It got smaller and smaller, until it could no longer be seen. He looked down from the cliff, angling his face to look below. Purple liquid stretched farther than the eye could reach, letting out violent bubbles. It was a terrifying sight that he had grown quite accustomed too. It was a legendary body of poison, with stories so old and grandeur, that none ever even dared crossing without the God’s Train. Those stories didn’t scare the boy though. The fear of the poison was nothing compared to the fear of his own fate. He wondered if he was really that similar to that butterfly. The butterfly was free to do whatever, go wherever, live however.

  He couldn’t do that.

  He wondered— what can I do to be free?

  Could he be free if he crossed that poison? Whatever was on the other side, it couldn’t be worse than what was here.

  Maybe if he jumped down and let the poison consume him… then he would be free.

  A loud voice called out, bringing the boy out of his thoughts.

  “Flynn! Flynn!”