A few wisps of clouds drifted through the vast grayness, as if the impending storm had cast a veil of gloom over the world. Everything felt so silent, moving with an unsettling rhythm.
The rain fell without warning, biting and cold. Sitting on the swing, the red marks on my exam paper were blurred by rain or tears. I stared at that jarring color, my lips moving, but no words would come. I began to swing harder and higher, until, in that fleeting moment, I cast the blurry world behind me.
I felt I had nothing left to be proud of. The subject of Chinese, which once gave me confidence, now made me afraid to even look at it. Memories flickered like pages of an album; those stinging words and cold faces felt like sharp daggers piercing my heart. I closed the album of memories, unable to face them anymore.
I tried to calm my emotions, but I couldn't escape. I wandered aimlessly until I came upon a tree stripped of its leaves by the wind. There, I saw a tiny white pupa clinging stubbornly to a dark brown branch. The sight was magnetic. I didn't realize that such immense tenacity belonged to such an inconspicuous creature.
I was overwhelmed with emotion. How could it be so steadfast, clinging to the branch while the leaves were swept away? How could it possess such willpower, using its minuscule body to hold onto a tree that seemed like a giant?
I stood there, mesmerized by the fallen leaves and the tiny pupa that refused to let go. A thousand words surged in my heart.
A flash of brilliant golden light broke the post-rain silence. I watched as a butterfly struggled out of the pupa, dancing gracefully in the warm light.
As the sky cleared, I felt the warmth of the sunlight in my palms. The gloom had vanished. A resolute voice seemed to echo from the distance: "A butterfly will surely have its day to fly."
A smile touched my lips, and a flower bloomed in my heart. I paused for a moment, then quickened my pace.
