It's so close from sight, but so far away in distance. The water droplets falling do not aid in his journey. Small feet are a curse. To get anywhere it takes so much more effort. With each step, he gets closer and closer to the tree branch he will use to make his cocoon. He has been bitten by a spider but was let go because the spider was eaten by a bird. “Karma,” he thought, as he pulls his feet to inch towards the end of the branch. He reaches to take a small bite. Then, everything goes black.
Two sticks in the back can prevent anyone from walking, except for him. He is three branches below his starting point. Struggling to get on his small feet, he pulls himself up to get to the next branch. The sun is setting, so his week-long journey will have to continue until tomorrow. He curls up on his leaf. He is awoken by the sun rising.   He is closed into a white wall. While he dwells, a cocoon forms around him instinctively.
Hours and hours have gone by. He has hit his head against this novel white wall at least a thousand times. There is no escape out of here. Tiny arms swing right to left, trying desperately to break free. Visions of sweet leaves make his longing for food grow. The sugary smell of the dandelions far below reminds him of being a small, and crawling two days just to reach them. He is trapped in an inescapable cell.
Months or weeks could have passed by, and the world would never have noticed that inside this chunk of white, dwelled a caterpillar longing for freedom and fresh air. As it rains a hint of sunlight peers through behind the clouds, and into the cocoon. As he sticks his head to peer the the hole, he starts to fall out. Then, he gets stuck in a sticky net.
“This journey will never be over,” says the caterpillar to himself. The black, furry spider had trapped him again. He decides the best way to escape is to eat his way through the net. But something feels different… he can’t crawl anymore. He does not understand why. He stretches his neck around his shoulders and identifies the problem. He does not own legs anymore. Instead, blue and orange wings are what he sees, with spheres and swirls that decorate his backside. He starts to flutter his wings, and he breaks free of the Spiders’ net. The sky is the only thing to clearly see while in the Rainforest. He aims to fly to the clouds and then to come back down above the trees.
The cold breeze of the atmospheric difference between the brushes at the bottom and the treetops. Refreshing air hitting his back as his wings flap slowly, the view of a beautiful butterfly just brought into the world. “Freedom is the feeling of pushing through and not giving up,” he says aloud. “I am finally happy with my journey ending.” He is finally at peace with the world.