Violet

All that she remembered was their bitter metamorphosis into two butterflies that slept in her hand. The tenderness of their wings kept exposing each fragment of thought that was crossing her mind. An embrace from him was everything she wanted, but he made his choice long ago. Inevitably, caressing the fragile bodies of two butterflies became a habit. Ironically, she could visualize tearing the wings of one to pieces of color similar to her shattered heart, but more beautiful to look at. It seemed reasonable to wish to separate them. They were to blame for the kind words and soft kisses once received. Unforgettable, those sounds and feelings, now set free, had a different destination. The lucky girl was the gentle butterfly on the left. The boy had no clear shape, because every trace of him seemed twisted and transformed to ash. His soul might have been in the smoky signs, on the wings of the butterfly on the right. A spell or two might bring them back, but who believed in magic? Ticktock ticktock ticktock… The arrows kept moving right left, right left, ceaselessly maintaining a pre- established route. Maybe she had one too. Opening the window, closing the eyes, abandoning the two butterflies on the petals of a grown violet, she stepped on a chair, getting closer and closer to the sill. The wind played with her hair, reinvigorating the body she thought dead already. Once the garden below reflected in her eyes, the truth became rather demoralizing. She was not there because of them, neither due to being called weak several times and laughed at. The bottom of a fountain, a dying rabbit, helplessness, panic, emptiness she felt and saw them all, but none could explain her present decision. Was it losing the battle with her mental health? Perhaps… she never sought treatment. Her relatives even believed the stories she wrote were illusions of a mind never satisfied with the relaxed, uneventful life others only dreamed of. “Ruthless girl, what are you doing? Come down from there!” She did not reply, her eyes at the two butterflies resting on the flower. They were both going to be alright. One day, maybe another girl will fall into that trap, but she did not regret anything. “Please, listen to me! I love you!” “I love you too…” just not enough. And then she fell, thinking of butterflies and torn wings. Perhaps she was deceived once again, maybe the girl was never meant to fly like the two creatures resting now on a violet.