As I lay on my bed at midnight, as I've done for many nights over the past three years, I feel the icy December wind tear through my open window, and find its resting place over my room as a cold haze. I open my eyes and peer through my window and take in the outside environment. The green pine trees were rustling as the wind cascades through them, small flecks of pristine white snow falling nimbly to the gray pavement below, and few petite shrubs shivering in the arctic climate as if they knew how to react to it. Then, something past several trees in the forest caught my eye; it trembled aimlessly but gracefully through the trunks of the massive elder trees.
Sitting up to try and get a closer look at the mysterious phantom-like creature, it came nearer to my window, finding its way out of the murky forest. Another rush of the frost bitten breeze flows through the window, carrying the being with it, making it turn, flip and beat its two little wings faster. I blinked hastily trying to perceive it clearly, wiping away a bit of the fog left in my eyes. When the tiny being I had been infatuated with flitted beautifully through my window, I saw that it was an incredibly petite butterfly.
It was the most striking butterfly I'd ever seen. Its frail wings were laced with sapphire, jade, amethyst, and ginger ribbons, as thin as fishing wire. All the colors worked together in perfect synchronization to compose the finest depiction of feathery wisps across both wings. Flecks of glitter were strewn in all directions and coiled into the vibrant colors. The tiniest splatters of a bloody scarlet dripped from corner to corner of each wing, top to bottom. These splotches were hard to see, because of their miniature stature, but not impossible. All these colors and the hints of glitter were meshed together to form a shear fabric like material that stretched over the black, wrought iron frame of the wings. Its elfin body was as black as the coals of a burnt out fire.
The small, mesmerizing creature darted timidly into the frosty room and perched lightly on the edge of my bed. I watched it as it scuttled from one end of the bed frame to the other with curiosity and wonder. It started to fly again, only for a little while, and then landed on my hand. I brought my hand slowly up to eye level to marvel at the beautiful creature as it ambled along my hand. As it toddled, small pricks and tingles scattered across the pale skin on my hand and wrist. I felt a subtle sting then fatigue washed over my senses; my eyelids drooped and my surroundings became vaporous.
The butterfly flittered up into the air and glided back out the window into the leisurely falling snow. As I watched it fly back out into the forest, everything turned black and I fell into a profound sleep.
End.