Page 12 of Wings of a Butterfly

I edge to the bedroom door so as not to make Alex too aware that I’m up and just trying to peek in on what he might be up to. I ease the door open and head for the stairs. I don’t see him at all, but all of a sudden, I feel a presence behind me, and his hot breath is on my ear.

“Where are you going, little butterfly?”

I whirl around and almost lose my balance on the top step of the stairs, but he reaches a hand out and grabs hold of my forearm to keep me from falling to my death. With my clumsy ass, these stairs are going to kill me. That would just be ironic. I look up into his eyes, and he has a devilish smile on his face.

“I was actually just looking for you.”

He arches up an eyebrow, seemingly curious. I’m guessing because I’ve been holed up in his room for days now, just lying there pondering what I should do in this situation. “Oh, really? Well, you found me.”

I swallow hard. “I was wondering if I could go for a walk around outside since you won’t let me wander around the house. I need some fresh air.”

He leans his head to the side and ponders it for a bit.

“We can go together. I wouldn’t mind getting out of here for a bit.” He gestures for me to lead the way down the stairs. I’m guessing it’s so that if I fall, I won’t take him out with me. The main staircase leads right to the front door.

Alex pulls out the key from his back pocket and unlocks the door. When he’s twisting the knob to open the door, it feels like a million years. The anticipation I feel to go outside is overwhelming. I suck in a deep breath as if this is finally happening. I’m finally going to feel the breeze on my skin.

We step outside onto the wraparound porch, and my eyes burn from the sun. It’s so much brighter out here than it is seeing the sun on the inside of the dark and dusty Antebellum house. I’m realizing it’s the first time I’ve seen the house from the outside. It’s old. The white paint is faded and peeling, and you can tell the shutters used to be a blue tone. With a little fixing up it would be beautiful.

The breeze feels cool on my skin as fall is settling in. The leaves on the ground are a rusted orange and red. I love fall. There’s something about the air that’s so calming. We take a few steps off the porch, and he’s still holding on to me.

I begin to step off the porch and Alex grabs hold of my arm.

“You can let go of my arm, you know, I’m not going anywhere. I just needed to get some air and walk around a bit.” He doesn’t seem convinced. His brows deepen in suspicion. “The house is dark, dank, and dusty. Sometimes I feel like bugs are crawling on me. Please, just let me walk around a bit.”

He’s deep in thought but seems to come to terms with what I said and lets go of my arm. It feels freeing.

“Don’t fly off too far, little butterfly. I’ll have my eye on you,” he says as he walks back toward the porch and sits down on the top step.

I walk around a bit taking in the leaves rustling in the breeze and the birds chirping. All the trees turning colors around the house from the season change. The breeze feels so good.

I glance back at Alex and notice he isn’t even paying attention to me; instead he’s picking at his nails. I consider running. Do I have the energy? Where would I go? I edge closer to the woods. He isn’t watching me. I might have a head start on him and maybe, just maybe, I can find a road. I can flag someone down and he’ll be none the wiser. I’d be out of here like a long-lost memory. I’ll just be another girl to him. Eventually he’ll find another. That’s probably selfish to think but self-preservation is kicking in. My heart is pumping so loud in my ears, and my muscles tighten, and as if on impulse, I run.

My hair whips around my face, the trees blur in my vision, and the birds fly up in my wake. I feel free like the butterfly Alex is always calling me. Maybe that’s why he calls me that, or did he say that to every girl he’s kidnapped? Is that jealousy? I’m mentally hitting myself in the head because why am I thinking that at this moment? Why do I even care what he called other girls? I was never special, just unlucky. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Only happy to gain attention from who I thought was my best friend, I was the perfect prey.

As I’m running through the trees, they begin to get denser the further in I go, and the branches are whipping at my limbs almost like hands holding me back. Are the trees in cahoots with him too?

I spring over a fallen tree, and I hear Alex calling my name in the distance. That doesn’t give me any confidence because that must mean we’re so deep in these woods that he knows no one will hear him. Which also means no one will hear my screams if he catches me.

I hear him getting closer, and it’s about that time that I see a hollowed-out part in the tree facing away from him and I dive in, crouching and holding a hand over my mouth. I’ll wait it out until he passes by and then I’ll start back on foot in the opposite direction. If he keeps going forward, then I could circle my way back to the house. I could follow his driveway to the road and make it out that way, or I could get the keys to his old beat-up Ford and haul ass out of here, but that would mean I would have to waste time looking for the key. I definitely don’t know how to hotwire a truck.

I’m thinking of a plan and holding my mouth to keep my rapid breathing quiet. I’m holding in my breath so hard that I can’t breathe. I’m starting to see stars and the sweat is dripping down my brow. I’m almost in a panic, my heart is racing, and I can hear him getting closer. I hear his footsteps over my thrumming pulse. He’s walking past my hiding spot. I can’t relax just yet. I have to wait this out a little longer.

I wait for his footsteps to grow faint before I crawl out of my hiding spot. I try as I might to not let my steps land on any fallen sticks because it’ll give me away, and I start back toward the house.

It’s been a few minutes since I’ve heard anything from him, and I’m not sure whether I should be happy about that or not. I’m still in a nervous panic because I’m the star in my own horror movie. I’m so hung up on looking around that I trip over something in the dirt. It knocks what little breath I had left in me. My face is covered in dirt and my knees are scraped up from the fall. I feel them burning from it. I look back at what I tripped over, and I can’t help the scream that rips from my throat.MY POSITION IS COMPROMISED.

I’m running again.

I don’t have time to think about the half-decaying skull sticking out of the ground I just tripped over because the footsteps I hear coming toward me are fast and furious. I’m flailing. I’ve lost my energy. The pain in my side is sharp and my lungs are on fire. I look back to see how close he is to me, but he isn’t there.

Where did he go? He sounded so close and right as I think that I’m colliding headfirst into what feels like a brick wall. I almost fall back but hands grab my arms, holding me up. His fingers are digging into the tender flesh on my inner arms. A whimper escapes my lips. I look up into his eyes and they’re completely black. He is furious.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you? Never run from a predator, little butterfly.”

He’s dragging me back by my arms toward where I fell. I feel a panic attack taking over, and my lungs are wheezing. We’re at the spot where I tripped, and I see the hair peeking out of the rotting flesh that’s left on the skull. It looks like it’d been buried before but was recently dug up by another kind of predator out here.

He takes my hair in his fist and pushes my head down, nearly touching the dead corpse with my nose. The stench before wasn’t noticeable because of the adrenaline that was coursing through my veins, but now that my body has nearly given up its all I can smell it. It could also be because my nose is right up on it.

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