i don’t know why my mom sent me on that field trip

My eyes are tight shut. My arms wrapped tightly around my 2nd grade teacher. I can hear their wings beating the air as they rush past us.

I swallow.

I walk blind through the course. Mrs. Hughes as my stick. We inch forward, slower than the other kids my age, laughing as they run up ahead.

My muscles are tight as I feel their small bursts of wind as they fly by. My knees nearly locked.

"Who wants a butterfly kiss?"

I open my eyes just a little to see a tour guide with a butterfly on the top of her hand. The other kids put their hand out as she lets the butterfly touch each hand.

I don't move. My muscles are frozen as I see the enclosing around me. Flying like driverless cars are hundreds of butterflies.

My brain went on overload. My ears popped. I could barely hear in one ear, and the other rang with a electrifying pain. Crying, my teacher rushed me out of the butterfly exhibit of Butterfly World.

I don't know why my mom sent me on that field trip. I wasn't joking when I told her I was afraid of butterflies.