Dragonflies

Trigger Warning: Abandonment, loss of a sibling, childhood trauma, loss of a pet

October 17, 2014

“Hi,” said the little girl with the bouncing red curls that hopped up and down with every step, and glowing blue eyes that sparkled like the sky after a storm. I didn’t know who she was. She didn’t know me. She just started talking to me. Children are strange.

“Hi? Are you lost? I can help you find your mom or something,” I asked, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. She was much younger than I was.

“Oh no,” she exclaimed, as if my concern was silly. “My mama said to take a walk. She has to deal with my baby brother. Can you walk with me? I don’t like being alone very much,” she said with a hint of sadness creeping into her voice, making me feel a bit sad for her. I hate children.

“Sure, whatever,” I said, my voice flat, trying to keep my irritation at bay, but agreeing nonetheless.

“What’s your name?” She asked eagerly, bouncing slightly on her feet. Her smile revealed her tiny teeth, bright white and slightly crooked.

“Annabelle.”

“My name is Lucy. I’m named after my great great grandmother. She got really sad when my great great grandpa died, so she died too. My daddy didn’t want to name me that, but my mama did. So she named me that. I think that’s why my daddy left.” Her voice was casual, as if she was talking about the weather. As if what she had said was a normal occurrence.

We didn’t talk for a few minutes after that. Then she perked up again.

“What’s your favorite animal?”

“A dragonfly.”

“That's cool. I like elephants. I think they have those in India, but I’m not sure.”

“Cool.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m seventeen.”

“I’m seven!” I felt my mouth go dry as she said that. “I’m in first grade. First grade is very fun, but not as much as kindergarten. We do less games and more math. But that’s okay because I like math. Not as much as I like games though. And I’m reading big books now. My mama says that’s no thanks to my father, but if he’s a grown up, then he has to read. I don’t really know what she means.”

I responded with a simple, uninterested, “Ok.”

“Do you go to high school? My old babysitter went to high school. She said it’s better than people say it is. You can go to this big fancy party called prom and you get to pick what classes you have sometimes. Is it really fun?” She asked, eyes wide with hope and naive fascination.

“No.”

“Oh that’s sad. I’m sorry you didn’t have fun. Maybe my babysitter lied to me. People lie to me all the time because they think I’m a baby, but I know.”

“Yeah.” I nodded quietly, not sure how to respond to the sudden weight of her words.

“Do you have a cat? I know you have a dog because I saw you taking it for a walk when I looked out my bedroom window, but I’ve never seen a cat. Cats don’t really like to go outside though. I used to have a cat, and I tried to take it outside, but it ran away. But that’s okay because Mama said we couldn’t pay for the cat food anyways. I hope he’s in a new house eating lots of food now. I bet he’s super fat.”

“Yeah, he probably is. I don’t have a cat. My brother is allergic.”

“Oh, that's too bad. I’m allergic to a medicine that has a lot of letters. I still have to take it sometimes though because we don’t have the other kind. It’s too expensive. I only get a rash though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Can you walk with me to the playground?”

“Sure.”

“I’m so glad you live across the street from me. You’re very nice. Also, thank you for walking with me. Sometimes when I’m alone, I get scared that someone's gonna take me. But Mama says I’ll be fine.”

“Why can't your mom walk with you?” I asked gently.

“She says she has too many things to do. She has a lot of things to do now that she’s the only grown up in our house.” Lucy replied, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and resignation.

“What happened to your dad?”

“I don't know, but I think he’s in India fighting dragons. We just woke up one day and he wasn’t there. He probably got a letter that said he was the savior that had to kill all the dragons. It’s a good thing he found something else to do because now he doesn’t fight with Mama.” Lucy’s words fell from her mouth so casually, as if the absence of her father and her mother’s pain were just another part of her reality. It made my chest ache.

“Oh…”

“Have you ever seen a dragon? I haven’t, but maybe one day Daddy will send me a postcard and it will have a lot of them on it.” Lucy mused, her voice filled with childlike wonder.

“I’ve never seen a dragon. They sound cool though. Maybe one day I’ll find a purple one.” I said, trying to match her enthusiasm.

“Is purple your favorite color?”

“Yes.”

“Me too! It’s the color of grapes and my favorite boots. Look!” She pointed to her violet cowboy boots, the soles caked in dirt, the leather scuffed and stained. The boots looked like they were barely holding together, yet she wore them with pride

“Those are pretty awesome.” I was amazed by her confidence.

“Yeah, I know! They were the present I got for Christmas,” she said with a grin.

“What are some other things you got for Christmas?

“I just got the boots,” she replied, her voice a little quieter now.

“Oh. If you want, I have a bunch of old clothes from when my sister was little that are just sitting in my basement. Do you want to try them on later?”

Her face lit up. “Yes, yes, I do! Thank you!” She wrapped her arms around my waist.

I bent down to hug her back, feeling a strange warmth toward this little girl who had so willingly shared so much with me. “You’re very welcome,” I said, genuinely smiling for the first time in the entire conversation.

November 2, 2014

A few weeks later, I took my dog to the park. The air was crisp, the scent of wet leaves lingering in the cold breeze as I walked to sit down on our favorite bench. Me and Lucy made a deal that every other day, we would meet at the swings at 4:00. That way she won’t be alone all the time. I honored this deal, and every week I showed up. Every week she came skipping down the cracked pavement, in her violet cowboy boots.

“Hi Annabelle!” She said, sitting down right next to me on the bench. She was wearing the green sweatshirt and gray leggings that I gave her. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, like she’d done it by herself in a rush.

“Hi Lucy!” I replied.

“Is high school better yet?”

“Umm… not really. But that’s okay,” she asked me that question every time, and the answer was always the same.

“Today was a good day for first grade. We did this game where we counted these little red circles. At recess, me and my second best friend—Olivia—pretended we were killing dragons to save the playground.”

“That's super fun! But who’s your first best friend?” I wondered.

“You,” she replied simply.

“Oh! You’re my best friend too,” she wasn’t, but what are you supposed to say?

“Yay! Can you push me on the swings? It’s hard for me to pump my legs to go up and down,” she stood up.

“Sure. I’ll make you go pretty high!”

“It’s ok. Going high is more fun than just swinging a little bit. Just don’t make me go all the way around!”

I pushed her on the swing for ten minutes, and we talked some more. Talking to Lucy felt like a warm hug. Like all my problems just melted away. Every time I saw Lucy, I felt the walls I built around myself start to crumble, like I was rediscovering a part of myself I long buried.

December 9, 2014

A month later, we were still meeting at the park. Even though it was thirty degrees. We just wore our heavy jackets.

“Why are you crying, Annabelle?” Lucy asked as she walked up to me.

“I’m okay,” I replied.

“No, your eyes are all red and puffy, and your nose is choked up,” she frowned at me.

“Oh well, actually, I was crying. Seven years ago today, my little sist—” I froze. I didn’t know how to explain this. My heart was racing, and my breath caught in my throat, like it was being pushed down by a giant net.

“What?”

“My little sister—Emily—passed away,” the tears flooded back to my eyes. My voice cracked as I spoke. I hadn’t said her name in many years, but it felt like my sister was still with me in that moment

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she hugged me.

Lucy didn’t say anything at first, just hugged me tighter. I didn’t know how to explain it, but in that moment, it was as if Lucy was helping to stitch up a wound I’d carried for years. “It’s okay. She was your age. Actually, she looked just like you. She had red hair and blue eyes. And she loved to talk, just like you,” my voice got smaller. Talking about my sister brought so much pain. But Lucy was like a Band-Aid.

“Oh, that’s special,” she looked at me, with so much hurt in her eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

“What is it?”

“When my daddy left, my sister was almost done with high school. When she finished, she left. I heard her yelling at my mama about how she hated her. They were both crying a lot. My sister went away and I haven’t seen her in a long time. Sometimes, I pretend that you’re her,” she stared at me, like she was scared to break eye contact. I watched as she broke and fell apart. Tears streamed from her eyes, and I couldn’t keep mine in.

After a few minutes, I composed myself. “My little sister loved dragonflies. When she passed away, I read so many books about them because I thought that would bring us closer. One of the books said that dragonflies were keepers of dreams and inspirations, helping individuals on their path to discovery and enlightenment. I think that the book was trying to tell me that I would be okay. And now, I think that you’re my dragonfly,” as I finished talking, Lucy’s eyes lit up.

“I think you’re my dragonfly!” She exclaimed.

“Lucy, I think we need something to eat. Do you want to ask your mom if it’s okay if we go get ice cream?”

“Yeah! Can we drive in your car?” she said as she jumped up from our bench.

We walked back to her house, her mom said yes, and we got in my car. She sat down in the backseat, in my sister's old booster seat. I adjusted my mirror and saw her face. I saw her curly red hair, her shining blue eyes, and her big smile.

The kind that lights up rooms.

Just like my sister’s did.

May 28, 2024

I hadn’t been back here in years. The park, the swings… everything seemed like a lifetime ago. Yet, I found myself standing before the house, heart pounding, unsure of what I would find. I walked up to the door of that old house. The one that I saw everyday ten years ago. The one that she ran out of everyday to see me. I nervously knocked on the door and fixed my hair in my reflection in the window.

“Hello? Who are you?” Asked this woman I’ve never met.

“Umm… who are you?” I was confused. She wasn’t supposed to open the door. It was supposed to be Lucy. She was supposed to smile at me and we would walk to the park and talk and we would drive in my car and go get ice cream.

“I’m the owner of this house. I’ve lived here for eight years,” the woman furrowed her brow, “Hey, I, uh, think you have the wrong address.”

“No, no. Where’s Lucy? Lucy Graham? She’s seventeen, she has red hair, blue eyes, she loves to talk to people? Where is she?” A hint of panic grew in my voice as I explained.

“Oh, uh, I think she lived here before I did. I think her mom abandoned her and her brother. She was put into an orphanage. It was really tragic,” her face was reassuring, but her words stung like a thousand knives. Stabbing me.

I looked like I saw a ghost. Everything just drained from my face. “Wha-what?”

“Yeah… ma’am, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine. I have to go. I’m sorry I bothered you. Ha-have a good day,” I barely got the words out without choking. I spun on my feet and started walking towards my car. Tears streamed from my eyes like a hurricane.

As I opened the door to my car, I looked up into the sky. It was overcast and cold. A dragonfly zipped past my face, so fast that no one else would’ve noticed. But I saw it. And in that fleeting moment, I knew everything—every loss, every joy—had led me here, to this fragile moment of beauty. I felt something shift. In this small creature, I saw my sister, my memories, the little girl who changed me, and the girl I’d once been. I let go, and just like this dragonfly, I would fly.

Free.

Unburdened.

Soaring forward.