Butterflies, for me, are like curses. Seeing a butterfly was like seeing death itself – they were a bad omen for me, indicating that a moment of twisted fate was about to occur. It had always been that way. I always call it the “butterfly effect”, simply because it is one. At least, for me. Butterflies are the only things I fear.
When I was younger, I loved butterflies like they were the only thing that mattered to me. I would be so happy if I saw one pollinating the flowers, and I’d excitedly call my mother over to see it too. If I had the camera she let me use, I would attempt to take a picture of the butterfly and the flower. It was rare that I succeeded – but when I did I’d celebrate.
And that all changed when the curse came for me. It was an ordinary day, no different from any other. But every bit different from the days that followed it. The butterfly began its reign over me on that oh-so-fateful day, as I succumbed to the power that it held on me.
It was simple, really – a butterfly flitted by as I struggled to stay alive in the cold darkness of the sea. I was but a mere child at a simple summer party, and as per traditions at summer parties in the household, it was held at the beach. So we went like every other year, and all was the same like every other day. But a single push ended all of that, as I fell into the water and struggled just to get out. Yet the tendrils of water held their grip on me as I struggled simply to get up, and flee doom. And yet no one, but a butterfly, noticed any of my struggles. Only a butterfly noticed my pain and misfortune. It was but a butterfly, who could never help me with my problem.
Sometimes, I wonder if I really was supposed to drown that day. Six years later, look at me now. Nothing has changed for the better, not even a little bit. Life is just the same for me as it was for my younger self. Call me a pessimist for all I care, but my version of the world still is the same as it was before, if not worse.
By this point, I almost want the butterflies to come and take my breath away. But the thing about the butterfly curse? It would do everything. Everything but the thing I wanted it to do. So here I am, for the rest of my life. The butterfly girl who fears then more than she fears herself – because really, it was just her fault that everything occurred. It was always much easier to frame something else.
I was always the butterfly who ignored myself.
– June 2016. 478 words.