My name is Fred. Common name? I know.
Though I'm not a common person. You couldn't really see me if I were standing beside you. But, I only stand by those who need me most..only I have found the child of my career. She is gentle, and very loving. Has no friends, only her teddy bear. Is bullied within school, loves to write and draw. Her stories are fantasy full and are amazing..yet shared with no one. For no one wants to listen.
I can relate with her. I have no friends, in fact I'm not even home, and far from home. And sadly, I'm only a story She's created. This young girl reaches out so far for someone else, only to be pushed over when she helps them up. I can't say, I want you all to be sorry for her. She still smiles, and laughs. In fact..making others laugh is her favorite thing to do. And creating things is a big hobby of hers. Whether it's stories or new toys from her old toys.
I could say, what I have for this girl is love. But, a sort of mutated love, for I really could be forced to love her, maybe. I'm only within her mind. No other could see me if they tried.
The sad thing is.. no one believes I exist except for her. They all think when she speaks of me, it's a joke. Though to her, I've been her best friend since she was little. Well in fact, I remember the day she told me her favorite part in Kindergarten was nap time, when I questioned why she replied with this, "No one can say hurtful things when it's nap time, and I can pretend I'm somewhere else." She said it all with a bright smile. What could I reply to that? Her big blue eyes, and short blond hair.
She loves nature and is constantly searching for bugs and creatures to save. She loves to be outside, Rain or Shine. When I ask her what the most beautiful thing is, she replies carefully. "A moth. Though they bug most people, they are beautiful even with plain colors. Once upon a time, Moths had color and were so beautiful to see, but the earth was gray..with no color at all. The moon mother of all moths suggested they share they're colors. The moths agreed, but by the time The last leaf was green, and the last drop of water blue the moths had no color left. But, Moon mother said if they could fly to her, she would allow them to have their color back.
That's why Moths always try to reach the light, they think it's the moon. So at night, you have to turn your lights out. So you don't confuse them. Ok Fred?" She smiled at me, and I smiled back.
I love that story, and always ask for her to tell me it. If I ask about butterflies she says "Butterflies are ancestors moved down a few. They still have color and look different. But, all and all, I think moths are the most beautiful. Don't you? Not once have they cried over looking plain. People shouldn't hate them."
I always wonder how she grew so obsessed with Moths, but ever since I can remember, she's told me that story and has been interested in turning out her lights and watching Moths dance in the moonlight.
I wouldn't be surprised if you thought this to be boring..Why would it matter that something made in another person's head would even care. I'm not sure. I thought maybe her story should be told. She isn't dead, and she hasn't done anything great. But, I believe she will one day become a beautiful woman, and she'll be a writer too! Someday..She'll reach the moon once again.