There once was a Caterpillar who felt lonely.

Caterpillar lived in a meadow with many different animals. They envied Squirrels speed and
Snakes sleekness. They wanted Grasshoppers grace and great style. Badgers beauty and
bashfulness was charming, never boastful. Spider scared Caterpillar, but the webs he spun were
more incredible than anything Caterpillar could ever hope to make.
One day, Caterpillar decided they wanted to make a friend, or at least talk to somebody. Spider
himself was making a new web near on an adjacent branch to Caterpillars that morning.
Excuse me? Mr. Spider?
Spider looked down at Caterpillar with eight, searching eyes while his legs continued to spin his
web.
Yes? Who are you?
Im- Im Caterpillar. I live on the branch over-
Oh You are the fuzzy worm who admires my webs when you think Im not looking.
Caterpillar gasped, Im sorry! I hope I havent been bothering you.
Spider crawled down and looked Caterpillar in the eye, making them shiver.
Im going to give you some advice, Spider said slowly.
Caterpillar gulped and nodded quickly.
Stay in your place. Webs are sticky business. You wouldnt want to get stuck.
Caterpillar bolted as fast as their body could carry them away from the web lest Spider pounced
on them.
When they could not possibly run anymore, Caterpillar collapsed in the grass, tears clouding
their vision as the looked up at the clouds in the blue sky. The brightness of the blue seemed
terribly unfair when Caterpillars insides felt black and roiling.
Why cant I be like everyone else? What is the POINT of me? they despaired.
Caterpillar heard the grass rustle slightly but couldnt even make themselves look to see what
could possibly be making that noise.
Eh-hem? a voice said. Caterpillar looked over finally. A group of worms were staring at them.
Sorry, am I in your way?
The ten worms shook their head in unison in a way that both amused and slightly sickened
Caterpillar. No, we are just wondering, one offered, what you are?
What am I? Caterpillar pondered the question. What am I?
Are you a Worm like us?
Oh, no. Definitely not. Im a Cater-
Oh good! Because there would definitely be something wrong with you if you were a Worm.
Oh But...
Where are you from? they interrupted again.
Caterpillar stammered, Im from a- a stick on a log on the side of the meadow where the sun
comes up.
The Worms exchanged looks with each other, whispering too low for Caterpillar to hear.
Where are you from?
The ground, obviously, one replies, rolling their eyes.
Oh. Ive never been in the ground, Caterpillar said.
The Worms laughed. One said while the left, Well, maybe well see you around
Okay! See you around! Caterpillar called after them.
The loneliness set in seconds after Caterpillar was alone again. A cloud passed over the sun and
all they wanted was to be back home.
The thought What am I? haunted them as they crawled back to their branch. They couldnt
answer the question. They had always been told they were a Caterpillar, but they couldnt
remember ever meeting any other Caterpillars ever.
The question continued to haunt them as they wrapped themselves in a cocoon on their
branch. They never wanted to see another Worm, or Spider, or Squirrel, or Ant, or anything
ever again because they all knew who they were and they had friends and family and Caterpillar
just felt so, so, so alone.
The sun rose and set above the cocoon, but Caterpillar didnt notice too often how much time
passed.
However, one day the sun was just so bright and so warm they had to see it for themselves.
They broke out of the cocoon, but were weighed down by what they thought must be the fabric
of it and fell to the ground. The sun shone down on them, and even though they were stuck,
they felt happy.
The sun lifted the weight they had felt for so long off of them and they stood.
Stood?
Their heart thundered in their chest as they crawled over to a puddle. They looked at their
reflection and their eyes widened. They looked so different, so foreign, so strange: large orange
wings with a hard, segmented body and what was growing out of their head?
A wind ruffled the grass around them and they lifted their wings up.
They gasped.
They were beautiful.
I am a Butterfly, they smiled. My wings look like the sun and I know what I am. I am a
Butterfly.
They flapped their wings and took off, soaring higher and lighter than any Worm or Spider or
Squirrel ever could.
And they were happy.