I want to be …a butterfly. Butterflies are beautiful, gracefull, pure creatures...
If I was a butterfly I would flee away from him.
He came everyday, thrice a day. He made me do things that made me live, like eat, sleep, and drink water. I didn’t like it. He made me live, so he was bad. But I wouldn’t eat any more. No, I refuse. I wanted to do nothing, and watch as time passed by.Thats what I wanted. Why couldn’t he understand that?
“You’re letting this food box rot. Eat it, now. I want to see you finish it in front of me.” I hated him. I always hid in the corner when he came. My caretaker charged him to make sure I live…I think…so I don’t become a nuisance to her.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to eat. He stood, keeping out his hand with the plate of food.
“Eat. I can go if you just eat it.”
“Nononononononononononononononononononononononononononono.” I repeated. I wanted him to understand. He was making me so angry. He always made me angry.
“EAT IT. NOW.”He raised his voice. I was scared. I hated when people shouted. It hurt me.
I flipped the plate of food out of his hand. It splattered all over his clothes and on his face.
“Shit!” He muttered jumping to his feet, wiping the food of his face with his sleeve. He left my house to clean his clothes, banging the door behind him. The noise made my ears ache . But I knew he would be back, and I didn’t want him back, so I locked the door. He came in again any ways. He used the key. He’s the land lord. I forgot he had a key.
He sat in front of me. And did not move. He kept the food plate on the floor. “EAT”. I looked at it. I didn’t want to eat it but... he wouldn't leave if I didn’t. So I shoveled it down spoon after spoon. Till it was gone.
I wanted to cry. If I was alive, so were the memories. It means everything was true...everything was real. I wanted it all to go away. To disappear like ash in the wind.
“Good.” He said sighing. It was good because he could leave. “You have an appointment right…with Doctor; it’s in half an hour right?” He asked.
“I’m not going. I don’t want to.”
“I’m not asking.” He said. “I’ll drop you in my car.” Why, why does he always do things I hate? I hate it. No I didn’t want to go. Why did he make me? I had no choice. I hated him. I hated him so much. I wanted to be alone…to sit and watch life disappear…
I want to be a… butterfly. A beautiful, pure butterfly, fluttering on frail wings...the bright colours spashed across the ash stained sky...
If I were a butterfly I would flee from everything.