Flying Flowers

I stared into the grand mirror before me; once again it was time for me to lie to myself about everything I knew. I was in a long purple gown, my hair fell to my waist, and I’d matured quite some since the last time I observed myself so precisely. The only thing I could recall was those eyes, those big, green eyes, the only thing I felt to be mine, as they seemed to tell me, ‘You are yourself today’. Suddenly, an older looking woman walked in, Madame, she was in her maroon gown and her grey hair was pulled into a high bun, she placed her hands on my bare shoulders and said in her deep crackled down voice, “Tonight is your night farfalla,” in a way that suggested every other was hers.

 I rose and followed her out of the room and to a grand staircase. As we walked down, a man was waiting for us, I knew him well, Robert. My Robert. I knew he was waiting for me, and when we reached him Madame shared a long staring moment with him before gracefully stepping away. He was in a tux with a white rose in his pocket, classic of him. His skin is fair like mine, his hair the typical ‘black as coal’ description. He was always so cleanly dressed, and the darkness of his persona only accentuated the golden luster in his gaze.

He smiled as he gently lifted my hand and proceeded to kiss it, just once. I placed my arm around him and he guided me to the dance floor. We prepared to waltz, a dance we’d learn together all those years ago, he gently took my hand and wrap his arm around my waist, and we began. He looked into my eyes and said, “It would appear you are you today, I’m glad Madame has not taken my farfalla away completely.” I looked at him sadly, “You and I both know I am here for Rose, and so are you, I’m her path, and you’re her mate.” He gave me a solid look of discern, “You are the only person I’d like in that way, I am simply Rose’s partner.” He frustrates me so, “You are suppose to be here for Rose,” I said bluntly, “Yet you insist on her powerless side, why is this?” He chuckled slightly, and proceeded to end our dance and walk outside with me.

When we reached the balcony, he grabbed both my hands, and as he looked at me he said, “Rose is strong, powerful, she is willful and hard headed, just the way Madame made her. But the part she couldn’t erase, you, that is what I love. I love that my farfalla requires the same love she is more than willing to give. I am Rose’s skillful partner and advisor, but we all know I am only my farfalla’s lover.” He always has a way with words.. I hugged him tightly when I suddenly felt a jolt. 

In no time I heard the chant fast approaching. With sadness I looked up at him, “It’s time.”

Come mio figlio, malvagio e divino,

Fammi vedere bruciare l'erba attraverso i tuoi occhi.
    Ora il mio fiore,
    Usa il tuo potere,
    Per distinguere tutti!

He supported me as I felt my knees give way, I felt as though I was an item in the fridge, being pushed back because something new was being placed in, I could see and hear and feel, but it was not me. I did, however, feel stronger suddenly, as I rose on my own he took the rose from his pocket; it was a corsage. He placed it around my wrist, and then he reached over and touched my hair, “Let’s go, Rose.” He took a clip out of my hair, it was a small white butterfly, and guided me.. Rose, inside.

As we stepped in I couldn’t help but let my gaze fall onto a mirror once more, through now growing red eyes. I did not feel like myself.

 

            Tonight was not like the last in some ways, but was in others. I was sitting at our large dining room table, I could myself look about but I was not in control of it. How did I get here? I can't remember anything passed the previous night. I knew at this moment, I was Rose. I watched as her.. My? No, her eyes seemed to flaunt around the room, we looked down and she tugged on the dress we were wearing, short and red, I promise she chose it, and tall black stilettos. We were sitting on Madame’s right hand side, no doubt because Rose was her ‘right hand gal’; she was wearing a long great dress, her hair still in that bun. Robert sat across from me. Madame didn’t seem to mind Robert around so long as I was Rose. He was wearing another tux, no rose in his pocket today. My eyes happened to glance past my lap again, and I could see another corsage on my wrist.

            

There seemed to be a discussion going on at the table with strangers that I apparently just noticed sitting there. They were all very dark characters, like each had their own reason to be hiding something from at least one person, if not more, in this group of figures. Myself interested, I could see Rose was too preoccupied with boredom to actually be paying attention to what could be very interesting. I watched her observe all the artwork in the room; I’d never noticed it in quite this detail before. She seemed to be fixated on one piece in particular, a painting of a group of people, a little girl that was in the corner of it. She wore a green, white and red dress, the colors of Italy’s flag. The girl was watching an older man, who seemed to be playing a violin, with eyes of pure amazement, as if she’d never heard music. ‘It must be beautiful,’ I tried to say to her. With that, however, she realized my presence, and had herself almost said the words I just uttered, believing them to be ‘her’ thoughts.

         

            “Out damn you!” She screamed.

         

            The previously jabbering room grew very quiet, as they had all heard Rose’s outburst, I couldn’t help but feel like the guilty party for her trouble. But then again, I knew I’d be the one getting the beating for it.

            

     Madame watched us cruelly, “Robert,” she said sternly, “Take Rose to her room, she must be tired.” With those few words Robert was up and by our side, taking our hand and guiding us out.

    "You all bore me," She said upon leaving.

            We did not, however, proceed to my room. We ventured to a small sitting room, one that he knew I loved. I loved it because it was so simple, there was only a couch and a small table, but then there was a giant window that led to a gorgeous balcony that let the most beautiful colors and light in the room. I loved to watch the sun both rise and set up here, whenever ‘I’ was around.

            Robert sat me down on the couch and kneeled in front of me, placing his hands gently on my hips. “Is my farfalla there?” He said almost pleadingly. It was a cross point, but we all knew I was. I could feel Rose’s anger burning within, she managed to mutter to him, “Why are you my mate when you only ask for her?”

    "I know why you were created, I know what you're doing, and you know I wish you gone."

    I felt Rose lean forward towards him, she placed one hand under his chin and stared deeply into his eyes, "We are one. You need me. You love my dark personality, the one she never possessed." She then leaned back, as if satisfied.

    "You're possessed." He spat.

    "I can stand up for myself," She said as I could feel myself gaining control, "Can she?"

            He remained silent until yet another transformation had occurred, he just continued to stare, no doubt waiting for my reassuring eyes to appear so he would know 100% who was in front of him. It didn’t take long for my eyes to return green, because when they did he swiftly removed the corsage and pulled my butterfly clip out of his pocket, gently clipping my bangs back with it while he touched my cheek.

            I suddenly felt exhausted, I could literally feel myself tipping, but Robert’s support kept me up in place, it always seems to.

            “Rose takes a lot out of you.” Obviously, that’s why I eventually won’t even remain. But Rose won’t be so strong when she has no one to take the hit of energy loss. I felt very cold, like you do right after losing blood, but I didn’t even have to say it, Robert put his tux jacket on me, revealing the golden vest he was wearing under it that matched his eyes so perfectly words could not describe it.

    "Do you believe it?" I asked, he looked at me confused. "That I can't protect myself?"

    "You're not witchcraft."

            I became very frustrated, “How long will Madame do this to me? I can’t tell whether she’s making me lose myself, or find myself. Either way when I’m finally rendered useless Rose will quickly perish with me. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

            I could feel his stare, and even while it was a tad awkward, it was comforting. He finally took a deep breath and tried to be compassionate, “She will do this to you until she believes I will in her place, but she knows of my love for you, not Rose. She knows she’s the only one who wants Rose here, but she knows by the time she’ll be able to use Rose, it’ll be too late. I’m almost positive Madame has no idea what she’s doing anymore. Some ideas are better left on paper.”

            “Rose is a part of who I am,” I said bluntly, “But she isn’t me. When she’s in control, I can see, feel, and think everything… But I don’t control it. The only thing I can say is that I don’t think she wants to be in this situation, just like me.. I don’t think she’s getting the chances she deserves either. But I want to be greedy, I want you for myself, I don’t want to share you, let alone lose you. But Madame won’t let you marry me until I’M gone.”

            Robert rose and sat down next to me. He placed his arm around me and kissed my forehead, I couldn’t help but blush. “We’ll figure this out my farfalla, I won’t let anything happen to you, trust me.”

    "You can't always defend me."

    He smiled,"I'll try anyway."

            “It’s just a dream now, Robert, being together..”

            “’Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.’ Kahlil Gibran, Love.”

            Madame called me to her quarters this morning. She told me not to bother getting dressed; I was still in sweats and a t-shirt from bed. She asked me to sit down at her dresser and had me face the mirror, then came up behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders for a short time. She then picked up a brush and began to comb my hair, what frightened me was that she was not looking at my head as she did this, in fact, I couldn’t tell what she was looking at, the mirror? Regardless, her gaze was unbearable. She stopped what she was doing and placed her hands again on my shoulders, I could feel her nails driving into me as her frustrations seemed to grow. When she let go and walked away, I could see the red prints remaining under my shirt.

            I looked at myself in the mirror, eyes still green, I had control over myself, but that also means Madame would not hold back.

            “My dear,” She said, sounding unamused by my presence, “When we first began this.. Transformation, you were more than willing, I saved you from your life of poverty, so why now do you fight and resent me? The woman who saved your life?” I could feel my heart grow colder as she became harsher in her meanings. “How are you saving me now,” I finally said, “You’re simply using my body and throwing my spirit away. That is not being a savior, that’s devil’s work.”

            I knew I angered her as soon as I opened my mouth in response; she did not hesitate from quickly making her way towards me and slapping me across the face. But at this point she’s hit me so much that I didn’t even feel it, so I rose and continued my rant, “Perhaps I’ve changed my mind, Madame.” I then gave her an extremely sarcastic curtsy before walking to her door and slamming it behind me.

            I started down the hallway; I could hear Madame yelling out, but not to me, to her. “Rose! My flower!” That woman! I talked to her no less than 5 seconds ago and already she thinks I’m again her devil grown lackey. 

Again came the echoing chant from her voice.

    Come mio figlio, malvagio e divino,

Fammi vedere bruciare l'erba attraverso i tuoi occhi.
    Ora il mio fiore,
    Usa il tuo potere,
    Per distinguere tutti!

Not now, not for a little longer, I’ll fight it this time. I rounded the corner in hopes of avoiding her, so far so good. As I began to run down a long tile hallway, I could hear footsteps fast approaching me. If I didn’t get away now, she’d surely kill me. That is, unless I was Rose.

            I saw the door leading to the garden, and it was open! I rushed outside, and the first thing I saw was the rose garden, all red roses, my god this woman was obsessed. I didn’t care though, I ran to the flowers in hopes I hiding among them. When I went farther and farther in, I realized I was in an area I wasn’t too familiar with. It seemed to be a center point for this vast flower pond. I saw a small silver cage, like a bird cage, but there was no bird inside, there was a butterfly. A small, white butterfly with the most intricate designs, it looked so familiar. An idea then popped into my mind, I reached into my hair and pulled out my clip, my bangs then proceeding to fall over my face. Perfect match. I then looked over to the cage’s door, there was no lock, and it was being held shut by a single rose, a white rose, just.. Like.. Rose’s.

            I’m not sure if it was a fit of courage, anger, or fear that probed me to do what I did next, but I reached for the door and ripped the rose off, opening the cage widely. But the butterfly didn’t move. I stuck my hand in and gently lifted it up and pulled it out of the cage. When the sun hit the butterfly, traces of gold seemed to appear on the trim of its wings. As I prepared to lift it into flight, I heard words that almost stopped me in my tracks.

            “Do not do this!” Madame screamed.

            I looked at her with eyes of fire, not red as Rose’s, fire.

            “YOU DON’T CONTROL ME ANYMORE!!”

            With that I flung the butterfly in the air, and it flew away, Madame looked at me with eyes of death, but I was just as fired up. I ran at her, knocking her right off her feet. I had no intension of murder, just enough to shut her up for good. She looked at me with eyes I couldn’t explain. But as she lifted herself up she looked at me firmly, but not coldly, and spoke.

            “Leave.”

            And with that, I felt as though something entwined in me, I didn't need to think to know it was Rose, finally connecting with me as one. Madame walked away and I turned to leave, clueless to where I would go. As I reached the gates to this torture palace, I saw a white horse, on top was Robert.

            “My butterfly with petal wings, you’re free, and you saved yourself.” He said.

            I’ve never felt so happy, so strong, so loved, I ran to Robert as he jumped off his steed and prepared for my embrace, I jumped into his arms in one of the most pleasant physical touches, crying for my freedom. He gave me a kiss on my forehead and helped me onto his stallion, I wrapped my arms around the man I loved and knew I finally had everything I wanted.

Author's Note

My main character has a duo personality throughout the story until the end, I apologize for any confusion or underdevelopment, this is only the first draft.