“The Butterflies & the Lost Veil”

There lived a butterfly, in a house, with her protector, who she fancied more than anything. And her protector respected and loved her the most, in return. The butterfly was delicate. So delicate that if negativity was ever forced to touch her, she would wilt like the freshly bloomed petals of a newborn flower. The petals that lose the meaning of their existence and just die of despair if they ever have to face the cruelty of a human’s touch. She was so delicate that one simple glare from a man’s eyes would burn her entire soul to a crisp as if it was placed in the core of the Sun. She was so delicate that just the thought of fluttering her wings outside and becoming the target of a man’s glazing eyes would eat her mind from inside out just like the maggots in a grave. But she had to go out; she had to collect the nectar from the uncountable blossoms outside.

But the thought of going out there brought out the worst of her fears. Those nightmares haunted her so much that she gave up on her magnificent dreams and locked them away in her memory, just like she locked herself in homestead. But then came the reign of some hardships and she was in serious need of that nectar. She butted heads with walls to find a way to get the nectar without having to face the terrible torments that lied outside. After some pondering she came up with an idea to protect herself from the frustrating realities of the outside world. As just as she planned, she covered herself in pitch black charcoal, which was from another world. It was certainly not easy for her to keep that on her body all the time’ it was hot in there, it was very uncomfortable. But the sense of its protection gave her the motivation to keep it on herself no matter how hard it was to handle it. After all, its effects were magical. It didn’t even allow light to pass through it. And it astonishingly blocked all the unwanted stares. This tactic kept her safe from the filth of the outside world for a long, long time.

But then a breeze of anguish came from the west, sickened the butterfly, So much that she could see clearly no more. She was blinded. And that melancholy made her forget even the essence of good and the distress of evil. She forgot where she used to keep the charcoal which was precious to her more than the moon dust. She even forgot about her protector who had an eternal love for her. All she could remember now was the thing she was afraid of, the most. That deadly glare that scared her so much, that even thinking about it made her mind melt and her eyes sore. But somehow the idea of that glare got twisted somewhere in her mind, because of that sickening breeze from the west. And somehow that butterfly forgot about the misery that gawk used to create. Her twisted mind somehow started to comprehend that distress and anguish and pain as something exquisite to behold. And all she wanted now was to face that glare of murderous intent over and over again. And she stepped outside carelessly.

The butterfly forgot that used to have charcoal shielding as strong as the Greek Aspis, from that very thing and started to believe it to be magnificent. And that compulsion of that wretched thing made her forget about all the beautiful things in her life and the butterfly didn’t even realize that she was at fault. She even forgot about the loving protector waiting at home for her, she forgot about her beloved charcoal. And that agony, that now she believed to be so marvellous took her deep into a dark and gruesome void, from where she could never return.