The little boy and the firefly could barely remember the taste of water. For days, they endured not only the threat of snakes and scorpions, but sudden gusts of dry wind mingled with sand, whipping their fatigued bodies, leaving them ever more weary than before.

“I’m so sorry, dear friend. I shouldn’t have brought you along,” apologized the boy to his friend.

“It’s alright,” replied the firefly. “I wanted to come with you. This was my decision, too.”

“Thank you, Ben. I just hope we could find water soon. Here, I’ll try to cover you from the sun.” And the boy cupped the firefly in his hands.

That night, the firefly failed to give out light. For as much as he wanted to glow for the little boy, he could do nothing but to lie down and gasp for air.

The next morning, the little boy and the firefly continued their journey. The firefly tried to make some jokes, but the boy knew that something was terribly wrong. He knew that his friend must have water soon.

Suddenly, like a mirage, a jar of water appeared before their eyes! Quickly, as from a newly found strength, the boy tried to run and to reach for the water. He was about to grab the jar when somebody–something quicker tried to stop him from reaching it.

“Nobody gets my water! Anybody who wants it should pay for it with his life,” said the big fat rat while holding a big sharp knife.

“I beg you, Mr. Rat. We only need a little. If you cannot give us a cupful to drink, could you give us even a few drops for my friend?” the boy said as he showed him the pale firefly resting upon his hand.

“No! Even a single drop will cost you your life,” said the rat.

“If–if that’s the case, take my life!” the boy replied to the surprise of the rat.

“N–no,” the firefly cried weakly.

“I don’t believe it. You will give your life for a firefly? That’s nonsense,” said the rat.

“That’s no nonsense,” protested the boy. “This firefly is my friend and...it’s my fault that he is sick. He was always with me...even if I’m good for nothing...even if all I could ever do was to get lost in terrible places like this one. He is here because of me and I will not allow him to die!”

The rat found it really hard to believe what he just heard. He also couldn’t bear to see the boy crying while holding the dying firefly in his hand.

“Alright then, little boy. Take it!” said the rat. “Take it, foolish boy.” And after giving him the jar of water, the rat ran away.

The boy was left with the jar of water. He held it as though it was the most important thing in the world. He looked at it as though it were some treasure that could never be bought or sold.

“Drink now, Ben. This water is ours,” the boy said while trying to give some drops to his friend.

“Th–thank you, little boy. You...were such a good friend,” replied the firefly in a fading voice. “But...but I’m sorry I have to go...goodbye...my friend.”

“No! Noooo! Don’t leave me, Ben,” cried the boy while holding the firefly near his cheek. “We have–we have water now. Isn’t this what you need to live?”

The boy couldn’t understand what happened. He couldn’t help but blame himself. Suddenly, the jar of water seemed so useless! A minute ago it was the most important thing but now, now it was nothing.

“I don’t need you anymore. I don’t need anything. The only one who has ever needed me is gone and I’m good for nothing. I’m not even good at being a friend.” The little boy wept and wept for Ben, but he could never make him wake up again.