Depart

Ever since Moli finished the new painting they made, they wanted to give it to Atta. It was his birthday. Sadly, he won’t get to celebrate it. He was not there anymore. How old would he even be if he didn’t die? 40? That… That isn’t old at all. No way, others live past 90 years. He died too soon… And what’s worse, he died for them. The purple moth can recall the event as if it happened just yesterday.

Yes, it was midnight. Every detail was ingrained in their mind. It was as if they recorded it.

Atta heard a sound from outside. Something loud and strange. He had to check. Just before he left the bedroom, a young Moli came to him.

”Where are you going?” they asked tiredly.

Atta patted their head as he took his spear. "I heard a sound and I want to investigate. I'll be back. Now, please, sleep. I will protect you."

"Okay…"

Then he left the room. Moli stood for a second, listening to the footsteps that faded. They couldn't imagine going to sleep - they wanted to go with him. They wanted to see what happened, even if they'd regret it. The moth decided to take some bombs from the box near his bed.

And so, they left the room and went into the living room. Once they reached the exit, they knelt near the door to listen to what was happening outside. Moli could make out the roaring of some sort of… beast? That roar was so weird, unlike anything they heard before. Once they slowly opened the door, they spotted the beast: it was a tall, tall creature, somehow taller than Atta.

As Moli slowly made their way forward, they noticed their dad fighting it, clearly needing some assistance.

A beetle jumped onto the beast, hitting it on the head repeatedly. It kept on scratching at the air, hoping to bring the bug down. Atta retreated. The other bugs were watching the scene go down, terrified.

"Dad?"

"Moli?" He turned to them.

The creature's scuttling could be heard. Atta turned around and readied his spear, noticing that the bug who jumped on it was gone.

"Go home!" he shouted as he tried to fend it off.

"I can't! I want to be with you."

Atta couldn't look away from the monster. "Listen, I am trying to protect you, so go!" the way he shouted was fast, with a hint of tiredness as he slashed at the beast.

"No!"

"Moli, please!" He slashed the beast one more time.

The attacks only made it angrier.

"Let me help!"

Atta looked at Moli. "No, stay back-"

Then he felt its claws pierce through his torso, pushing him backward. He could only gasp and stumble once the monster took its claws out. He tried to hurt it with his spear as he ran to throw it, then fell to the ground.

Moli could only watch in horror, then throw bombs at the beast.

"You! How! Dare! You!? Do! This!?" every sentence was marked by another bomb thrown at the monster.

In the end, the bombs made the beast retreat in pain, but the other bugs still chased after it to kill it.

The purple moth knelt beside Atta, who was laying on the ground, clutching his wound.

"I… didn't expect this,” he grimaced while he looked at it.

"You're… bleeding?"

"Please… Don't worry. I'll be… fine."

"No, you need help!"

"It's perhaps too late…"

"No!" their eyes darted from one corner to another, hoping that someone would notice this and come.

"Moli, existence…"

"Is beautiful?"

"Yes… But it's short, too… What matters is… To make the most out of it."

"But I don't want to lose you!"

"I'll be with you… Through memories and in spirit."

The young moth suddenly hugged him, refusing to let him go. With their eyes pouring down like a storm, Moli pleaded with him to not leave while he only stroked their head and hummed in a hopeless attempt to comfort them. They both had a feeling it would be too late, but Moli refused to believe that.

The child screamed after help, but no one showed up. Then, they felt how Atta's hand stopped moving. It seemed cold to the touch, too. Now that they are thinking about it, the humming disappeared.

”Atta?” they shook him.

He was motionless. No matter what Moli did, Atta did not respond. He was not there anymore…Was he? They could only incoherently scream and sob. Moli was all alone and they were fearful? Sad? They didn't know. They only knew something hurt and that they wanted him back.

And they still do.

As Moli left the house, their eyes targetted the blue sky. The rays of sun that filtered through the blades of grass lit the road, while the purple moth went to the grave they set up near their house.

Yes, Atta’s grave. The one they made, with no corpse to hide. Just a portrait of him with a golden, detailed pattern of swirls that framed his painting and several objects he treasured organized around the portrait. Just like Atta sheltered them from danger, the shelter they made protected the grave.

Moli took a slow, small step forward as if something was stopping them. In their hands, they held the new painting they drew and flowers.

”Hey, Atta… I’m sorry for still not using the paint you bought me last time, but… I painted this,” they seemingly whispered, laying the painting near the grave while they knelt.

"I… hope you like it, even if you can't see it. I promise I will make great use of that paint you bought me, I just need to think about what I will do. Plan it out, you know."

After a moment of silence filled with grief, they rose and turned away from the grave. Before they could leave, they looked at the flowers in their arms and turned around.

"Oh, and… Take these flowers," Moli left the flowers near it. "These are your favorites…"

He had so many interests, some that they got from him especially. Atta was the one that made them want to draw, not only because art is closely related to fashion, but also because he encouraged them. He always brought them the best paint possible, even if it meant he had to work on the most intricate clothing possible. Reflecting on it, they loved watching the creation of every single piece of clothing.

"And… Thank you, but…" they could feel a torrent building up in their eyes, that blinking couldn't stop from pouring down.

Moli sucked in a sharp, shaky breath."But why did- why did you go?"

They took a step forward. Their throat felt like it was being choked, bloated with emotions. 

"You- You left me a-alone. And I want… I want t-those times back!" Moli's words came out like an avalanche. "Why did it h- did it have to be you? You can't even hear- you can't talk to me anymore!"

They tried recollecting themself, but they felt like they couldn't stop.

”You… You told me about the beauty of- of existence… Yet you chose to die for me… I want y-you here! I want… one more moment with you! Just- Just a second at l-least… To get to hear you say it all again. A-and maybe… Get a chance t-to stop you from leaving…”

The painting of Atta had the same unchanging smile it always had. Of course, it was just a painting. A painting could never offer comfort. It could only stare.

Moli continued sobbing, trying to stop this torrent. Atta was never coming back. If there was a way, they would do anything. At least one more second with him. One moment to tell him anything, to do something! They could only remember the times they cried when they were young and Atta was with them, humming a tune as he held them in his arms.

They tried to remember the tunes, messing up many notes to the point where they got frustrated. Why can’t they even remember this? Why can’t they remember something so important like this? What's next? Will they forget about him, too? They already lost him, they can't lose memories of him too! How could they fail him like this, they wondered.

What would he even say? Would he be hurt? Angry? Or would he understand? Would he instead forgive them for this? They knew deep down that Atta was never someone who would get angry. No, he would try to understand. He would listen and say things that Moli could already hear play in the back of their mind.

Yes, he would say that it's alright, that forgetting is normal, and that he will never be mad at them for such a trivial thing.