Alice remembered when dreams used to be her only solace. A sweet relief from a harsh, cold world that wasn't filled with magic and unicorns that i had believed were in hiding, waiting to whisk me away to a land filled with soda rivers and cotton candy clouds.
She remember when books used to be her teddy bears. They were door to the worlds she was searching for, and, though she didn't realize at the time, her shield she used to guard her eyes from the world around her.
There was no music.
Then one day, a small butterfly had flown through her barred window. It slipped through the bars and did not flutter aimlessly about as a normal butterfly should, but came to rest resolutely upon Alice's book just as she was about to turn the page. Bemused, the woman gave the butterfly a half hearted smile.
" I put those bars up for a reason." She sighed, her voice soft and wistful.
She'd been reading a book before the fireplace, her thick curtain of auburn hair draped about her like a protective curtain. The butterfly remained perched upon the book, almost stubborn in its stillness, without another flap of it's wings. If Alice stared at the small creature with curiosity and even a bit of unease. It was unnaturally still. Suddenly it came back to life, springing up from the book, startling her, causeing her to fling it from her lap with a small yelp.
The butterfly simply flew to the mantle place to rest upon a traditional black and white photo of an adolescent boy. Her brother, Travis. The reason for her solitude, her decision to live alone in he woods, far from any town where any traveler might stumble upon her humble abode. She gracefully rises to her feet, her pastel yellow summer dress flowing about her as she warily walks toward the butterfly. Its gently pulsing wings slowed to a standstill only when she stood before the picture.
"You, small creature, are starting to irk me a small bit. What is this all about?" She murmurs.
For a moment, the butterfly remains still. Then slowly, or Alice would dare to say deliberately, the butterfly walked onto the glass and ventured about the picture before coming to a standstill on He Brother's face. Then proceeded to gently pulse it's wings. It was this that sent a dreadful chill down The woman's spine.
The butterfly's vibrant, warm colors of red, orange, black, and amber were very much reminescent of the flames that took Her brother's life. A house fire she'd failed to save him from. A door that she couldn't open. She recoiled from the mantle place, the sudden memory overpowering her.
She could feel the searing heat, the sensation of her burning lungs, her hysteria as she'd realized that her older brother was trapped in a bedroom that had become his death chamber. His screams haunted her dreams. The reeling moment when his screams were abruptly cut off, only the sound the flames roaring like the echoes of hell reaching her ears, haunted her almost every waking moment.
For a while she lay curled in upon herself, her soft beige carpet pressed against her cheek. She clawed vicously at her hair, gasped for breath, and clutched her eyes shut, reeling from the memory that was still vivid after fifteen years. Her heart was racing. she could hear her blood rushing in her ears.
It was a long while before Alice found herself back in the present moment. Even then, she did not move. She dared to look up at the picture once more.
The butterfly was gone. Swiftly she searched the room for the insect, and caught site of it just as if fluttered through the bars from which it came.
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