Afterward: Resurrection

I wonder about the metamorphosis of a butterfly as it is stored away in cocoon-darkness until its evolution is complete, and it begins to fly brilliantly. No different from the stars that shine bright only in the pitch of the night sky. They take the shape of diamonds glinting around the necks and on the fingers of the reborn. In total darkness, I too sprung courage, sprung wings. After I walked across the stage at nineteen, in May 2006, never passing myself by again, taking new form and flying for myself.

-April Juarez

April Juarez, thirty-eight years old, has been incarcerated for the past sixteen years. She is an Eastern Michigan University student working toward her bachelor's degree in General Studies with three concentrations in personal wellness, creative writing, and community leadership and advocacy. Her prose is forthcoming in the 2026 issue of Oakland Arts Review. April is a proud mother of three remarkable children.