a/n: hello. this is something i wrote for school, and i liked it, so i'm also publishing it here :) please tell me what you think, reviews and constructive critisisms are greatly appreciated, but no flames, please.

I am blind.

I have been ever since I can remember, but Mamá told me that it wasn't always this way. She would tell me about how I used to run barefoot in our Jardín de Hadas, laughing and dancing with the butterflies that graced our colorful plants, building little fairy huts among the roots of the cherry tree with twigs and poppies.

"Linda Coya, mi pequenita mariposa," she used to say, "Do you know why we call this our Jardín de Hadas?"

"No, Mamá," I would respond, forever and always.

"It Is because every night, the fairies and elves will come out of hiding from the flowers to work their magic, spreading life and vitality among the flowers," – she would gesture to the grassy mound where the cherry tree sat, surrounded by a perfect ring of mushrooms – "and if you leave a bunch of raspberries inside the fairy circle every night, on the night of the full moon, If you listen closely as you sleep, then you will hear the sounds of their festivals. But don't listen too closely, mind" she would say with a wink, "for if you do, then you will go to join them and when you come back, you will find us all long gone with time." And for the longest time, we would sit on the swinging bench in the great oak beside our house, watching the moonlight reflect off our nighttime flowers, leaving behind raspberries and dishes of honeyed milk, telling stories and listening to the music of the night.

But my Mamá was sickly, and the accident causing my blindness only sped her upon the path of her departure. As time drew on, we could no longer leave behind gifts for the fairies and our wonderful Jardín lost all of its magic, the color draining from petals and the air no longer smelling of old stories and magic.

When my Mamá became so sick that all she could do was lay asleep in bed, I took it upon myself to do something. When the full moon came, I took a handful of the freshest raspberries and a little porcelain dish inlayed with golden vines from its place in the glass cabinet, filling it with warm, honeyed milk and felt my way through the Jardín to the cherry tree. On my way, I didn't see but sensed hundreds of nocturnal monarchs, flying around me a though they knew what I was going to do and blessed me for it.

Reaching the tree, I set down my gifts, knelt down and begged in my mother's language:

"O rey y reina de las hadas, please help me." I told them of what happened, a few stray tears leaking out of my sightless eyes to fall in the moss in front of me.

Finally, I retreated a little ways from the fairy circle and fell asleep, not stopping to listen to the other worldly music that played next to me. When I finally woke in the early morning, I knew something had changed. Leaping up, I ran back to our little house. The soil that had felt dry and dead underneath my feet, now felt moist and healthy and the air was once again infused with that magical scent. Monarchs danced around me as joyously as I felt and when I reached my mother's room, they whirled around me to settle on the furniture. My Mamá sat up in bed, seeing my ecstatic face and dirty nightgown.

"Que pasa, mariposa?" she asked, sounding a lot healthier than before, "And why are there butterflies everywhere?"

"Mamá!" I burst out. "Are you feeling better, mamá?"

"Why yes, Now that you mention it."

"It's the fairies. Last night I gave them gifts and begged them to help and they did!" I felt my mother's surprise.

"Las hadas?" then she laughed. "Well then, we should go thank them, no?" when we reached the doorway my Mamá gasped.

"Que pasa mama?" I asked worriedly.

"Mariposas, Coya," she said simply. "there are butterflies everywhere".

Fin.

Useful translations:

Mariposa – butterfly

Mamá – mother

Jardín de Hadas – fairy garden

Linda – beautiful

Coya – Quechua; literally 'the princess'

O rey y reina de las hadas – O king and queen of the fairies

Que pasa – what's wrong