Chapter Five: Goodbye Butterfly

 

            It’s been four months since Roy found out that he was going to die, and his condition has gotten worse and worse. I’m sitting in his room right now. He tries to act like everything’s okay, but I know that he’s very much afraid. And I’m afraid, too. Roy and I…we’re really good friends now. I have Shane to depend on, but Roy depends on me like a sister.

            “What is that thing!?” he asks, peering over his bedside to examine my terrible skills as an artist.

            “It’s a dog…or at least, that’s what it’s supposed to look like.”

            “It looks like a deranged…blob—with rabbit ears.”

            I stick my tongue out at him. “I bet you couldn’t do better. Ms. Rogers gives me lessons now. I finally decided to bring up the topic of her drawings. You know, that day I saw those skeleton guys.” Roy had actually believed me when I told him what happened. I haven’t seen those skeletons again, though, so that’s good.

            “Cool, but I bet that I could do way better than that.” He reaches for my drawing pad, but stops just short of it. He starts coughing again, and I can’t do anything except feel pity for him.

            After a while of coughing, it doesn’t seem like he’ll stop. He would’ve regained his composure by now, but… Is it…is it that time yet?

            “Roy…Y-you alright?”

            Bright red blood spackles his hands. Roy looks up at me, fear in his eyes. He continues to cough. I gasp. Oh, no. Oh, no. I look around the room frantically.   “Don’t you have any medications to stop coughing!?” I ask, fear growing inside me.

            Roy takes his hands from his mouth long enough to sputter, “No good.” His mouth is covered in scarlet blood, which drips down onto the sheets of the hospital bed. Then, more coughing and more blood.

            “Roy…” Oh! “I’ll go get a doctor!” I sprint out of the room faster than I have ever run before.

            No one is in the halls, as far as I can see. Shouldn’t there be a doctor or a nurse or someone!? Anyone!?

            “Hello!?” I scream. “Is anyone here!? Emergency in room 600! Emergency!” Fear and hysteria are taking away my breath, and screaming at the top of my lungs is only a hindrance. None of that matters right now, though.

            Two doctors come running out of a random room.

            “Room 600, you said?”

            I nod, because I’ve lost all capability of speech.

            The two doctors run past me and into Roy’s room. I run back to Roy’s room after the two doctors. When I get back, Roy is still coughing up blood, one doctor is talking to Roy to reassure him that everything’s going to be alright, and the other doctor is calling up other doctors to help.

            I walk up to Roy. “Roy. Roy. I-I-I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know. I…” Oh my gosh, he’s going to die.

            A few minutes, hours, days—I really don’t know—pass by. Then, more doctors rush into the room. I can’t tell how many. My eyesight is too blurred from tears.

            “Miss, I’m afraid that you’re going to have to leave now. I’m sorry, but you must go.”

            I don’t feel anything but the pain in my heart. I feel like a ghost. I feel like I’m here and yet not here all the same. I think I grab my things.

            “Shawna…” Roy’s voice temporarily breaks the spell that I’m under. I turn around. The last words that I’ll ever hear from Roy float away from his lips. “I’m going to see Mel again. Goodbye.”

            I fall back into my trance. “Goodbye.” The words fall from my mouth like birds dropping from the sky.

            I hear the door close behind me. I feel myself drop onto the floor. I feel like something’s died inside of me. Am I cursed to bring death upon the ones I care so much about?

            “Why!?” I scream to no one. “Why!?”

No sun☼shine here

            I slowly get out of bed. I look at my alarm clock sitting peacefully on my desk. It’s 8:43pm.

            I walk into the living room. Shane and Theresa both have this solemn look on their faces. I wonder why.

            “Hey, guys. What’s wrong?” I ask. As the words slip from my mouth, the unwanted memories rush back into my head. No tears come to my eyes; I’ve cried them out already. “N-never mind.”

            It happened two hours ago. But…like he said, he’s gone off to see Mel again. I hope that she forgave him.

            The tears come back again.

No sun☼shine here

            “Here lies Roy Cyrus Delaney, December 4^th, 1999 – March 16^th, 2009. His middle name is Cyrus? Huh, he never told me.”

            I said that I didn’t want to go to the funeral. I’ve only been to one funeral in my entire life, and I couldn’t bear to go to another. Instead, Shane and I are visiting Roy’s grave the day after his funeral.

            They buried Roy next to Mel. He didn’t tell them to, but I guess his parents figured that he’d have wanted it.

            Shane is sitting in the car. He doesn’t like going into graveyards. It hurts him like funerals hurt me.

            I walk over to the grave on the right of Roy’s. “Here lies Melanie Danielle Stratford, April 3^rd, 2000 – July 3^rd, 2006.” So, this is where Mel is, the girl I’ve heard so much about. She was only six years old...

            I wonder who’s on other side of Roy. I walk to the grave on the left of Roy. “Here lies Melanie Danielle Stratford, April 3^rd 2000 – July 3^rd 2006.” Wh-what!? Why are there two Mels!? Okay, now I’m seriously confused. I think Roy would’ve told me that there were two of them, but he didn’t. I must’ve just read it wrong. I check the tombstones multiple times, and they say the same exact thing. I’ll have to look this up when I get home.

             I walk back over to Roy’s grave.

            “You know, Roy, you could’ve told me that there were two Melanie Danielle Stratfords,” I say, as if Roy could actually hear me. Maybe he can.

            “Sorry, I forgot. I would’ve.”

            I gasp. Oh, crap, maybe Roy really did hear me. I’m just hearing things. Actually, that’s not really any better.

            A lonely butterfly lands onto Roy’s grave. It’s completely black, except for the tips of its wings, which are pure white. Ah! That’s that same butterfly that I saw at my mother and father’s funeral! I can sense it—it’s the same exact butterfly. Without thinking, I reach out for it. It comes closer to my hand, and then…it touches the tip of my middle finger. A bright light flashes, and I pull back immediately. I run away, afraid. They’re too many memories. Goodbye, Roy.

No sun☼shine here

            “Pete, I love you.” I smother Pete with sloppy, wet kisses. I’m holding him up to my face with my hands cupped.

            ‘Ribbit!’ Pete croaks as if to say “I love you, too!” or probably “I’m not a lip-magnet, thank you very much. Please get your gross lips off of me, you crazy girl!” I laugh.

            “I wish you would turn into a sexy prince when I kiss you.”

            ‘Ribbit! Ribbit!’ That might be translated into English as “I think it takes a thousand kisses for that happen. Keep them comin’, Shawna, keep them comin’.” Or “Keep dreaming.” I prefer the first translation.

            “You can be my boyfriend, Pete.” Am I really that desperate as to date my pet frog? You bet I am.

            School’s out for summer vacation now, so I don’t even have schoolwork to keep me busy. I’m so bored every—single—day. And I’ve only got Pete to keep me company, because Theresa won a free cruise to Jamaica and decided to take Shane along. There were only two tickets, so I couldn’t go. I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyway; I get seasick easily. And besides, Shane told me that he was going to propose to Theresa on the ship. Whoopee. So, here I am, alone at home for the next three weeks.

            Ugh, I need some rain. I gently place Pete on my bed and sit on the window sill, one leg in the rain, the other tucked into my chest. Sometimes I really wish the rain would go away…but not today. Today, I wish it would flood and I could fall out of the window and drown.

            I sigh. It’s been three months since Roy…died. I really miss the kid. For, like, a week after it happened, I was really distraught. I couldn’t focus on anything, or think about anything except how most of the people I love and care about end up dying. Well, everyone except Shane and Theresa. I just hope that they don’t…you know…on their cruise. I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. I wouldn’t have any blood relatives, after that. I’d be in foster care for the next fifty weeks. I turned seventeen two weeks ago, and there’s fifty-two weeks in a year, so that makes fifty weeks of foster care.

            In that week after Roy passed away, I kept having early dismissals because of too much stress. I would have a nervous breakdown in the middle of my classes. I’m okay, now. I’m okay.

            Even when I try to convince myself that, terrible images flash through my head. I hate them, but they don’t go away.

            I see smoke.

            I hear screams.

            I see fire.

            I hear screams.

            I see fire.

            I hear Mom and Dad call my name.

            I see fire.

            They want me to get out.

            I see fire.

            They want me to get help.

            I see fire.

            I can’t hear them.

            I see fire.

            I know what they’re saying, but I only see fire.

            I only hear screams.

            I only see fire.

            I only see darkness.

            And then…I’m at the hospital with Shane.

            “I’m very sorry, but your parents didn’t make it.”

            I only hear screams. I only see darkness…and fire.

            I’m not okay, and now I’m drowning in my own tears.

I feel like someone’s in the room with me. I know Pete’s in here, but I feel someone else. I lift my head from in between my knees to find a butterfly right in front of my face. It’s…black with white-tipped wings. I feel like I should touch it again, but, this time, I won’t pull back. I cup my hands like I do to hold Pete. The mysterious and beautiful butterfly lands gracefully into my palms.

            Light flashes, but I don’t drop the butterfly. Then, the butterfly slowly drifts away from my hands and to the middle of my bedroom.

That butterfly changes into a skeleton guy! I scream, and then fall onto the floor, trying to get off of the window sill and out of the room. “Ow…” I scramble to my feet and stay close to the wall, all the while scanning the room for some kind of weapon.

            The skeleton guy begins to talk. “So, you are Shawna. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

            How do you know my name!? Also, the skeleton guy isn’t a guy. The voice sounds the same as the female skeleton from before.

            “So, you are Andrea.”

            “How did you know?” she asks.

            “Those skeleton guys thought I was you. Why?”

            “We are sisters.” Say what?

            I’m guessing that Andrea can see my confusion. It’s probably written all over my face.

            “You and I are sisters. You see, I died three years after birth. You were about a year old at the time. I guess no one told you about me.” Andrea looks down to the floor.        

            Dead people turn into skeletons with weird black cloaks?

            “Does this guise bother you?” she asks. “I borrowed some skin from Niko.”

Her voice inflections tell me that she didn’t actually borrow the skin. Wait, ew. She borrowed someone’s skin!?

            Andrea takes out a blue mask from somewhere on her cloak and slips it on her face. The hood of her cloak falls down and the blue of the mask envelops her body. It then changes to a flesh color. And now, Andrea looks like a normal human being dressed in a cloak. Andrea’s hair and eyes are the same freakish color as mine. However, her hair is shoulder-length and crimped.

            “So,” I begin. Why do you seek me?” I ask. It’s not like she just came for no reason. No point in scaring me for stupid reasons. “Wait. Before you tell me why you’re here…Why couldn’t anyone else see you guys before?”

            “Oh, that. We can choose to conceal ourselves from others. It just depends on who we need at the time. And, as to why I’m here, well, it’s a little complicated. I know all of this will seem a little unbelievable, and I know it’s unbelievable right now.”

            “Yeah, well, I’m looking at you. And I’m listening to you, and talking to you. I think this all reality, and if it’s not, then just call me crazy.” I give a nervous laugh.

            “Anyway, I require your assistant. I cannot succeed unless I get your help. You see, the Grim Reaper, King of the Underworld, has three sons: Nikolai, Angel, and Adrian. You’ve met the younger sons already. Well, they secretly lead this organization called ‘Dusk’s Rebellion’ which—”

            “I see dead people,” I whisper. I burst into laughter. “Sorry, sorry. I had to say that.” You know. The little kid says that in the movie “The Sixth Sense.”

            Andrea shows no sign of understanding. I don’t think she’s heard of it.

            “—which is planning to rebel against the Grim Reaper. We—I mean they are going to kill him tomorrow night.”

            “Isn’t old Grim, like, already dead?” I ask.

            “Hmm…I don’t know. They’re going to end his soul. Without a soul, the Grim Reaper is nothing. And then, his sons will rule the Underworld. Or rather, Nikolai will rule, because he’s the oldest, and he’s very conniving. Angel and Adrian don’t know what Niko’s planning to do to them once Grim’s gone. Anyway, Dusk’s Rebellion is up to no good. Niko is all for totalitarianism; he’ll rule, and he doesn’t want anything to do with his brothers. We have to stop them from killing the Grim Reaper. The state of all the souls in the Underworld depends on it. Nikolai just wants the power. He won’t come for the dead in this world. People won’t die, then,” explains Andrea.

            “Interesting…” I say, trying to sound like Ms. Rogers. I laugh at my failed attempt.

            “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously!” Andrea yells at me.

            “Well, I mean, all of this is kind of dumb, really. Like, the fate of the worlds is all in my hands…!” I retort.

            “I’m serious! Please, Shawna. You’re the only one who can help me. And if you don’t help me then…then I’ll kill Shane. Grim holds the power to kill anyone, and I know him very well. He’ll kill Shane for me. And…he’s all you’ve got left, right?”

            “You can’t do that,” I say.

            “Watch me!”

            I can tell that Andrea’s about to disappear back to “the Underworld.”

            “Wait…” I sigh, completely giving up. “I’ll help you. It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do for the next three weeks, anyway.” What have I got to lose?

            Andrea smiles at me. “Thank you so much!” She practical tackles me. I’m guessing that’s supposed to be some sort of hug.

            “So, what am I supposed to do? How the heck are we going to stop these guys?”

            “First, you must die. And then, we can go to the Un—”

            “Die!? No way am I doing this. I can’t leave Shane and Theresa and Pete! I mean, I have my whole life ahead of me.”

            “Shawna.”

“Can’t I at least graduate from high school first? And then, I still want to go to college and pursue a career in…uh…I don’t know.”

“Shawna.”

“I also want to get married and start a family and have, like, twenty kids. Then my kids will go to college and pursue careers in who knows what. Don’t get me started on retirement. I’ll be old and—”

“Shawna!”                        

“What?”

“I’ll resurrect you once—if—this is all over,” she reassures me.

“Oh. Good…This isn’t going to hurt, is it?”

She doesn’t answer my question. Instead, she pulls out a scythe like the Grim Reaper has. “I also borrowed this from Niko.”

I scream again. “I-is it too late to back out?”

“I’ve been watching Niko and Grim use these things, and I’ve picked up a little. Okay, before you die, I need to explain a few things. First, I’ll bind your body so you won’t be able to move. It’s kind of like paralysis. Second, I’ll use this scythe to carve out your heart. Then, I will use the scythe to write ‘DEATH’ into the heart. The words will in turn eject the soul from your body. Your soul will then be chained inside this locket—I borrowed it, too.” Andrea pulls out a locket from somewhere on her cloak. “Behold! This locket is called ‘Obsidian Bereavement.’ It stores the soul during Transformation. Once your soul is inside the Obsidian Bereavement, you will go through Transformation. This is when your soul takes the form of your former body. Everyone in the Underworld looks exactly as they did when they died, and we stay that age forever. After Transformation is over, you will have a dream. It’s just like any other dream you would normally have, and when the dream ends, you will wake up in the Chamber of the Awakened. That’s inside the Underworld. I’ll meet you there. I’ll take you to my home and further explain things. Do you understand?”

Boy that’s a lot to take in. I nod my consent, anyway. Hopefully, all of this will make sense in time. Hopefully.

“And trust me; it’s a lot scarier when Grim does this.”