Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was a little boy who had an unhappy childhood. He was sad all the time and had no one to talk to. He sought solace in dreaming about escaping and creating his own universe where nothing else mattered, where no one would be beaten up for no rhyme or reason at all, a place where he could finally be happy and free.
One day, out of boredom, he cut out butterflies from his mother’s bedsheets because he found them so pretty to look at and wanted to rescue them from the confines of the coloured threads from which they were trapped in. He got punished of course, and ran to his room crying but still clutching those cloth butterflies.
While in the throes of misery, he felt a little tickle on his palm. Rubbing his tears away, he slowly opened them and the butterflies came to life! They flitted around him, whispering wisps of thank yous and asked if he would like to fly away with them, to their world. Yes, yes!, he said.
He closed his eyes and they took his hands, and together they flew and flew and brought him to a haven he had never experienced before. He had found paradise.
Years later, after the boy was all grown up, he woke up one day and found himself back at his old home. Nothing seemed to have changed much despite his years away. And that made him sad again for a moment. But the difference was that he now knew how to open the secret door to his very own paradise, and that comforted him greatly. And oh how he smiled. And smile he would, because now he was an inventor. He could create beautiful things out of nothing with just his deft hands and brilliant mind.
And I do hope he still lives his happy ever after. The End.