The Lost Butterfly- a story of aliens, love and humans. The Stalker (2d)

Ch.2d

The man excused himself from the owner of the gallery and left hurriedly. He already had a plan and he needed every minute to work it out to the last detail. He called for his car and left the premises.

The young artist went to the bathroom and washed his face with cold water. He stared for a moment in the mirror at his own reflection; he felt lost and lonely. His loving companion was far away and he didn’t want to disturb him. So he took a deep breath and returned to the exhibition; there were still two hours left until closing and he was needed there.

At half past eight, the owner and his five young stars were waiting outside to be collected. Moments later, the huge black limousine stopped in front of the building and the man invited them inside. He took them to a very pleasant but highly expensive club; the music was good and the drinks were exquisite. Many well-known personalities were sitting at the tables and all of them seemed to look up to the man. He introduced them his new young protégés; he made a mental note at each turning head, after they made acquaintance to the Butterfly Artist. Though he acted more restrained than usual and more serious than his actual self, his beauty remained untouched. The aura of gentle magic that surrounded him left a strong impression upon everybody. His friends playfully teased him but he shook his head and dismissed all the talks about that topic.

The young man knew he was trapped and his mind was feverishly working to find a way out of the current situation. He complied with his friends’ request, he took the girls and danced with them but he stick to his non-alcoholic juice, saying that he had a mild headache. Food was served but he took only a bit; he wasn’t in a mood to eat. He couldn’t avoid having a glass of champagne offered by their host; the man wanted to toast for their artistic development. After this, it was out of question to drive home in their cars. The man offered to drive each of them home and they were thrilled by his generosity. Only the Butterfly artist remained gloomy; he desperately needed to go home by himself but he didn’t want to seem rude or to spoil his friends’ pleasure. It was well past midnight when he decided to call a cab and go home; a strange dizziness took over him and he couldn’t take it anymore. The girls were worried and his friends decided to end the party and leave. The man called the limo, embarked them all and ordered the driver to take them home. They stopped at the young Butterfly’s home and left him safe and sound in front of his house. They wave him goodbye and left. The young man leaned against the wall for a moment; the world was spinning and then everything went black.

Before he even touched the ground a dark silhouette stepped out from the shadow and stopped his fall. A car silently stopped and the dark man placed the young inside, on the rear seat. He then stepped at the front seat and they left in a hurry. The man took his prize in his arms, buried his face into the rebellious black hair and inhaled deeply. The fresh fragrance invaded his senses and he swallowed hard, hit by the sudden burst of desire. The inconspicuous white powder mixed into the glass of champagne has rendered the young man helpless; he was immersed in a deep sleep. He was totally unaware of the car’s destination.

As they reached the house, the man took the sleeping young artist man and carried him up in the bedroom. He laid him on the bed and carefully undressed him. He stared in amazement at the naked youth; he was the embodiment of perfection. In his sleep, he looked like the living image of Endymion, the beautiful young man loved by the Goddess of the Moon, Selene. He covered him with a light sheet and made himself comfortable.

The man poured a drink and sat on the bed. He watched the peaceful expression of that lovely face, the light shade of pink in the cheeks, the slightly parted, delicate lips and the pearly-white row of teeth, the long eyelashes underlining those mesmerizing eyes, the silky black strands falling over the clear forehead, the soft glow of the smooth skin…He touched him and felt the warmth of the young body. The Butterfly Artist looked like a living statue. The man realized how much he needed him to be awake. It was that passionate, vulnerable personality that gave that perfect body the touch of magic that surrounded it. The man took out a syringe from a small box and injected some antidote in the youth left upper arm; he then stood there, waiting for a reaction.

In about ten minutes the youth stirred. The man bent over him and kissed the soft neck right under the earlobe. Brusquely, the young man woke up and tried to push him away but the man gripped his wrists and pushed him on his back, holding him tightly. The victim moaned and his eyes filled with despair.

-I knew- he said and his voice cracked. Let me go…please- he whispered. Don’t hurt me…

-Don’t fight and I won’t hurt you-said the man calmly. The game is on me now. As you have said, the more you resist me, the more I want you.

The young man turned his head away. He shuddered under the stranger’s touch; all the bad memories locked up in the depth of his conscience were now pushing to break the locks. He stiffened as he felt the man moving relentlessly.

-Don’t…please-he pleaded though he knew it was hopeless.

-I can’t stop it-said the man rolling on top of him. Such beauty and perfection as yours should never walk on Earth among such sinful creatures like me. You are so unreachable and desirable that we can’t stop to try to tear you down. This is a curse both for you and us. I can’t stop; I have to have it my way.

As he moved forward, the young man cried out in pain and anguish. His cries broke down to sobs until all ended. He laid there on the bed, eyes closed and eyelashes heavy with tears, and for the first time, the man saw the broken butterfly. He suddenly realized that he has just broken something precious, something unique and irreplaceable. Luckily, the young man  has fallen into a deep sleep from physical and emotional exhaustion. The man gently dressed him up and called for his car. He took the youth home, undressed him and tucked him into his bed. He ordered the driver to bring the young man’s car in the parking lot. He took a final look on that hauntingly beautiful face, then left the apartment and locked the door behind him. Game over.

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The Lost Butterfly-a story of aliens, love and humans (1f)

Chapter 1f.

Winter was setting over the city step by step. The gloomy days of endless autumn rains were over. Day by day, frozen white stars showered from the skies, enveloping the surroundings in a blissful blanket of cold silver.

The shopping madness already erupted, the furious in and out sweeping through the city. Fuyuki’s works sold better than ever, raising his confidence and making his loved ones proud; yet the oncoming Christmas made the young man a little bit anxious. Like so many other things from everyday life, this particular event was a first for Fuyuki. Since Yoshiasu had a very crowded schedule at work he relied entirely on Angela. Luckily, she enjoyed doing things together with the young artist. She looked upon him like on a younger brother. So they bravely worked themselves through the necessary shopping and set all the details for their trip to the mountains. Fuyuki was more than happy to leave the city. The constant swarm of the town proved to be tiring. He needed a break and some personal time with Yoshiasu. And then, there was the problem of the Christmas presents; the small things for the others were already packed up. The butterfly necklace he had designed for Angela was almost ready. There was only one person left but it was the most important one for Fuyuki. He was at loss; he knew that Yoshiasu had everything money could buy, everything he needed. Well, Angela helped him pick a fine, warm pullover but it didn’t feel like a real gift. Fuyuki buried his worries deep inside, hoping that he would come up with something more personal until Christmas.

Days went by and the moment of the departure finally came. Everybody was excited. Yoshiasu was well aware that for him and Fuyuki this holiday could prove to be  a real challenge. It was their first public appearance as a couple. It was also about assuming their identity while among their friends there were  girls still holding some hope about  handsome Yoshiasu. It was a big step for Fuyuki to meet so many strangers in such a particular moment of the year; Yoshiasu was determined to keep him safe from any harm or malicious pressure. He was happy that Angela would accompany them, despite the fact that her fiancé, George was stuck abroad and couldn’t join them. They were about to meet at the New Year’s Eve Party. George was a fine guy, reliable and open minded, deeply in love with Angela. Yoshiasu hoped that he’ll accept Fuyuki easily.

Yoshiasu and Fuyuki arrived at the inn at the early hours of the 24-th of December. The landscape was spectacular and the snow was sparkling and pristine. The morning chill put some color in their cheeks. After the heavy snowfall the day before, the morning was clear and sunny. Reflecting on the ocean of snow, the light was overwhelming, blurring all the contours, seeping into every crack and corner, chasing away the bluish shadows. Amazed by the sighting, Fuyuki watched in awe the unfolding of this natural beauty. His unusual lilac eyes captured the light like two translucent pools reflecting the endless skies.

They settled in their room and went out for a walk. The rest of the group was due to come in the afternoon. Angela was arriving with the crowd; she wanted to stop for a visit to her parents who lived in a small city nearby.

As they crossed the lobby, Fuyuki noticed the Christmas tree centered in the main room. It was a two meters high, richly decorated fir tree. Fuyuki walked closer and gently ran his fingers over the branches. Sudden memories clouded his face; Yoshiasu stepped behind him, touching his shoulder.

-Do you remember anything, Fuyuki?- he asked in a reassuring voice.

-I…I remember the excitement of the expectation and that…it felt good. My memories are mostly feelings, not facts. I was very young at that time…

-Don’t get upset-said Yoshiasu and took him by the hand. Let’s go out and I’ll tell you about my ups and downs with Santa.

Fuyuki shook away the setting gloom and followed his friend. The snowy landscape had a definite appeal for both of them. They roamed all around, stumbling from time to time over a lighter heap of frozen stars.  They made snowballs and competed in throwing them faraway, they pushed each other down the small slopes and happily rolled over the fluffy sparkling blanket.  They fooled around until they tired; they finally stopped, lying down in the snow, panting from exhaustion and excitement.

From the corner of his eyes Yoshiasu watched Fuyuki smiling happily. He rose, bent over the younger man and kissed him. Fuyuki encircled his neck with his arms and kissed him back. Yoshiasu’s hand moved along Fuyuki’s body as their kissing deepened. They fell back breathless and stood there, gaze lost in the endless azure above. Moments later they heard the sound of the arriving cars; they stood up, shook the excess of snow clinging to their clothes and returned to the inn hand in hand.

Angela was just stepping out of the car when they got there. She affectionately kissed them both and asked them playfully:

-Have you already started the party?

They laughed, picked up her luggage and followed her in. Everybody got their room and after a while the lobby filled with young men and women eager to relax and start the party. The food was already on display and it proved to be delicious. They were all hungry and slaloming with a plate in hand eased the connecting between the 30 some people.

Angela chuckled and kicked Yoshiasu with the elbow from time to time, as she caught various people staring at Fuyuki. Holding his loved one by his shoulders, the computer analyst introduced him to each and every one of his friends and their companions. He did it easily and naturally, without ostentation and even the most jealous girls had to admit that Yoshiasu’s choice was…charming. As things settled, fun took over. The laughter and joy bubbled and the party turned out to be a real success. It was well past midnight when they finally returned to their rooms.

Yoshiasu showered and sat on the top of the bed with a small glass of wine, waiting for Fuyuki to shower. The room was pleasantly warm as deep cold settled outside the windows. The night sky was teaming with stars, the light above mirroring the endless glitter of the ocean of snow below. Fuyuki sat next to Yoshiasu and took the other glass. He took a small sip and looked into his friend’s eyes. The older man furrowed his brows questioningly:

-What’s wrong, Fuyuki?

The younger man sighed.

-It’s about your Christmas present…

-I’m not a child, Fuyuki. You don’t have to worry…Besides, as long as I have you, I need nothing else.

Fuyuki put his glass aside and sat face to face with Yoshiasu.

-It’s all I can give you…-he said and his voice broke.

Yoshiasu watched him intently; there was a warm light glittering in the amethyst mirrors and a slight tremble in the young man’s body. Yoshiasu  gently touched his face and the warmth of Fuyuki’s body seeped through his fingertips, making his heart run wild.

-Fuyuki, are you sure?-he asked in a restrained voice.

Fuyuki closed his eyes, letting the bathrobe slip off his shoulders. Yoshiasu laid him down and kissed him deeply. Fuyuki’s breath hitched as Yoshiasu moved down, kissing the soft curve of his neck. Senses and emotions flared up in their embrace and love moved forward, breaking down the barriers of painful memories. Fuyuki opened to Yoshiasu totally and unrestrained, seeking the magic of feelings he sought for so long. Their love making brought them high and when they reached the climax, it left them dizzy with elation.

Released from anxieties and overwhelmed by his feelings, Fuyuki was quietly sobbing, curled up in Yoshiasu’s arms. Yoshiasu squeezed him lovingly and caressed him until the tears dried and the younger man fell asleep, protected by his lover.

They woke up late, fulfilled and more in love than ever. They quickly showered and went downstairs where their friends were already opening the presents. As they were the last ones to descend, eyes turned towards them for a moment. Just like Angela, people noticed that there was a new light in Yoshiasu and Fuyuki’s eyes and a certain glow coming from inside. Even the most skeptical ones had to admit that the signs of LOVE were unmistakable in the appearance of the two young men.

So everyone returned to the unwrapping of packages and Angela greeted her two best friends.

-I have a feeling that you’ve already got your present-she chuckled.

-Do we have to admit on that?- asked Yoshiasu and they all laughed.

They sat on the floor together and started the unwrapping of the presents along with the others.

Walking a Dream-waking up in someone else’s dream (7)

Chapter 7.

 

She rushed out the door, not sure about what would be outside. After all, it wasn’t her in command in this dream. Or was she?

“ Use your imagination…:” was ringing in her head and she thought of a large, open meadow of poppies, gently sloping towards a patch of forest in the distance. In her mind, she opted for daylight, hoping that she would more easily trace Tyler running wild. Tyler was the one who embodied mindless fear and she was determined to slow him down and try to talk some sense with him.

Her feet delved into the carpet of grass and the blazing red flowers swayed aside gently, leaving her to run freely. The girl was following the hidden trail of footsteps left by the bulky man. Her mind’s eyes were constantly detecting the imprint of angry touch in the ground. Soon , she saw his dark frame with its glowing outline moving forward in short, heavy jumps. He noticed her presence after a while and stopped, turning back.

-What?!-he shouted at her. What do you want?! Why are you following me?!! You said you don’t want to remember me! Go back then and leave me alone! Aarrrgh!!!

His feral growl sent a shiver through Kai’s spine. Tyler raised his hands in despair and flames erupted from the tip of his fingers. He smashed his fist on the ground, setting the summer grass on fire, then he resumed his run. A wall of flames and choking smoke rose in the air, startling the girl. The wave of scorching heat pushed her back and she staggered and fell on her back. She summoned a rain cloud and the pouring rain extinguished the fire. Kai stood up, assessing the situation: a large , black, smoldering trail cut in the colorful meadow showed the way of Tyler. Swallowing her tears, the girl rushed to catch him from behind.

No, I don’t remember you…The one who echoes inside me has a light that I feel so close to me…But if Joren speaks the truth, I must embrace you too, Tyler because you are part of the whole of the same person!”

   I was running breathless, my heart threatening to break out of my chest and my own anger was gone. Tyler’s frightening violence wasn’t scaring anymore. I knew that I have to win his trust, no matter how crazy that might sound. That boiling rage was  in fact his vulnerability. I could see him a few steps ahead, banging and smashing trees and bushes, bringing havoc in this imaginary world. He knew I was there, close to him. If only I could read his mind….

-Tyler!-I’ve heard myself calling. Please, stop and talk to me! Help me to remember….-I pleaded, hoping to reach him.

   He turned abruptly, ready to fight me but I wouldn’t budge. I stared silently at him , holding his gaze. As the fire of madness was slowly subsiding, I recognized the dark brown eyes I knew already well. Tyler tilted his head incredulously.

-You want to remember….me?-he asked in a husky voice. His eyes narrowed in distrust. -Why would you do that?-he continued, watching me closely.

    I breathed out with a sigh. “ Don’t screw it, girl!” I thought. “ Listen to your heart!” I did.

-Because one cannot love the whole until it learns about the parts. It would be a lie and That would only lead to more pain and deception. Please, let’s stop for a moment and talk. I want to understand. I want to remember you.

      He scrutinized me for a while, fighting with his long worn mistrust, shadows running wild over his face. But his eyes were gradually clearing  and his gaze was softening, pushing back the flaming madness. His whole body was convulsing, torn apart by his inner conflict, his fist clenching, his chest heavily rising….then subsiding with painful sighs. Locked inside the fragile human frame, a wild ocean was rising with thundering noise, pummeling the shores of the tormented soul. It was an epic battle I was witnessing and all I could do was to embrace him in my mind, holding him close with all my might, hoping to make that tempest subside. It did, eventually. Tyler slumped on a heap of grass, muttering:

-The constant fights brought the marriage to an end and fragilized Jordan’s inner balance.Heshe was very much attached to her father but she was left with her mom. Over the years, the crack between child and mother deepened, growing into a dizzying depth. On the tip of that accusing finger, still haunting our host’s day and night, there’s evil determination for control, triggering each time the deep seated conflict between the two of them. I was born out of that: I am Jordan’s shield and revenge-he concluded, his voice now only faint whisper.  

 Kai watched as Tyler’s contours were fading with each word. In the end, as the echoes of the man’s voice were fading into the wind, all that was left on the heap of grass was a small, peacefully sleeping child. The girl picked him up gently and carefully moving through the sea of poppies spotted grass, she returned into the house. Joren was waiting for her in the door. She led Kai in  the hind room and they both tucked the little boy in bed. Kai placed à kiss on his forehead  before leaving.

-Sleep well, Jordie….-she murmured. You’re safe.

Early in the morning, she pensively ran her fingers through the strand of hair with burned tips.Ignited by Tyler’s anger, the flames have left a clear mark, reminding Kai that Jordan’s dream and  her reality were merging into a new one.

Walk in a Dream-waking up in someone else’s dream. Chapter 4.

Chapter 4.

She woke up crying, emotionally drained by the dream. She couldn’t understand. How can anyone do such thing to its child? Why? Why would you use your child as a battleground in a fight with your spouse? It’s senseless and cruel!

She got off the bed and pushed herself into the daily schedule, leaving the impressions of the night to sink deeper and to clear inside her mind. By the time she was sipping her coffee, she felt less vulnerable and she returned to her previous thoughts.

Maybe the parents themselves were a bit lost, not knowing how to react to the fact that they had a very special child. The world they were living was not prepared either and thus, answers or help in understanding how to deal with, were scarce if none at all. This was an important issue in the fragilisation of their connection. While their child needed love, acceptance and protection, both mother and father were desperately trying to “fix” reality according to their own vision. The result….

The girl shook her head in disbelief. The result was nothing less of a disaster. Peeling off the elements of fantasy, the final moments of the dream were speaking volumes about it. Somewhere in this world, a shattered soul was reaching out for help…

“So be it!”-though the girl and stood up to leave for work. She locked the door when she heard the little bell ringing….

~~

The sound was unmistakable; it was little Jordie’s belt bell. I’ve recognized it instantly. Was I truly awake or my dream was continuing? Could it be that the one dreaming it, found a way into my reality, warping it and changing it? The simple thought of such happening made me question my sanity.

So I’ve shrugged off the thought, took a few deep breaths and I walked out the door. No more bells ringing….

~~~

She woke up at the same hour, in the middle of the night, with a heavy heart. “What’s next?”-she thought, remembering the other night and the painful question in the eyes of the shattered teenager.

The room was dark and silent and her throat was sore of unexpected thirst. Half asleep, she dragged herself to the bathroom and let the cold water flow for a while. She poured a glass of water and gulped it up. Her eyes met the reflection in the mirror and she froze. At first, she saw herself, sleepy and ruffled but then, there was something new in that image. Something or….someone? Someone was with her in the mirror. Someone was inside her own image, someone whose image was overlapping hers. It was difficult to detect the changes but they eyes were darker, the look inside them, piercing , veiled only by the sheen of sleep in the girl’s eyes.

Then, the feeling became stronger. The more she looked inside those eyes, the stronger the feeling of entwining with someone else became inside her. She instinctively put a hand on her chest; something was moving inside, digging deep in the intimacy of her soul. Something was trying to nest inside her, to find a safe haven. Someone was moving with her, in her. She was herself and someone else as well.

Words appeared on the translucent screen of the mirror, written by an invisible hand: “ Do you remember me ?….”

~~~~~~~~~~~

What should I say? I stared in the eyes of the one(s) in the mirror.

-Help me to remember!-I said. Lead my way through this quest. I want to remember….

The mirror wobbled and I’ve found myself on a white surface, stretching endlessly in all directions into a dense, milky mist. I stood there, waiting….The silence of the place was almost tangible, the mist was slowly undulating in the distance. I closed my eyes and opening wide my arms, I tried to touch….something with my fingertips. In the mirror of my mind, I touched the one nested inside my soul. Its touch was warm and soft. Our fingers, our palms, our hands touched at both ends of the Infinity…Then “+” and ”-” collided in an embrace. I opened my eyes to gaze into the face of the one holding me.

-I’m glad you’re not running anymore!- he said with a playful smile. A youthful face with dark brown eyes, wearing a top hat and a black and red cape. A Magician. He took me by the hand and we stepped inside the forest. The pathway under our feet was covered by azure-blue grass, the leaves of the canopy were shimmering with a golden-yellow glow and a bluish mist was filling the in betweens of the tree trunks. I was mesmerized.

“ If this is a dream, then I don’t want to wake up anymore!”- I thought.

Reading “ Estelle’s Tattoo” or Why did We end up with Rape?

     Reading Paul White’s short story “Estelle’s Tattoo” is a shattering experience. As you reach the final line, it’s hard to find the proper words to leave a comment. This piece of writing is food for thought and fuel for attitude. It has haunted me since yesterday and it stirred something inside me.

   This morning I suddenly realised that Estelle’s tattoo is engraved in each young girl almost from her birth. When you are born a woman, your life stands under the shadow of being a potential rape victim. As a girl born and raised by two women, this mark was all too familiar, even if we never discussed it openly. But this status of “potential victim” was hanging in the air and became one of the main reasons for disliking my femininity. And I was not living in a war zone.

  In fact, I was born and raised in a quiet and peaceful, less complex and complicated society, with a low rate of criminality, a place where my Mom could come home from her night shift at the newspaper, walking all alone the streets at 3 am. Still, my mother and my grandmother were watching over me and protecting me as I was growing into a teenage girl from that possibility of becoming the victim of a man. So I’ve learned to watch my back, to walk in broad light and main streets, to hurry up if I a man was following me, to learn to read their glances, smiles or smirks and keep out of trouble. I grew up learning that I can be a prey so I’ve learned to avoid the hunters. This “survival kit” has grown into me without being fully aware of it. Luckily, I am an optimistic person so I didn’t become paranoid about men. In fact, I seldom gave a thought about this, once I became an adult. Until yesterday when I’ve read this heart wrenching story about rape and the life under its permanent threat.

You might dismiss this topic as an exaggeration. “Come on, this is not happening here…We are not like this”. I beg to differ when I see how the community of my fellow citizens reacted at the news of a collective rape happening in a Romanian village. Half of its inhabitants were blaming the girl for luring the boys into having sex with her, despite all the proofs that this was a premeditated act of two of the perpetrators who lured the girl into a friendly meeting, then called in their friends for the …fun.

   You might suggest that women should take defense technique training. But why would they? I for instance, I’m a non-conflicting person despite my strong opinions; I dislike any kind of aggressivity. And for what reason should I train myself in fight? Do I live in a jungle? Is that the real face of thousands of years of civilisation? What happened to us? How did we drift this far that a person has to live her life carrying that shadow of threat simply because she was born a woman? How did we end up losing the count of “Estelles” who have died and keep dying all over the world?

    We keep reading about such cases or hear about them in the media. For days we keep debating…then another shocking event sends the rape case into oblivion. Sometimes we dismiss it because we think that this is something happening only in less civilised areas. Wrong. The fact that a rape victim has tremendous difficulties to report what happened to her is the best proof that in all kind of societies there is something deeply wrong about how we think about women.

   When you learn that in all too many cases/places the victim is first to blame, when you learn that there’s “corrective rape” against lesbians, when you learn that women need to “learn their place” and so on, then you come to realise that rape is a socially/historically ingrained habit that emerged as a byproduct of human civilisation. You won’t find rape at our close relatives, the Bonobo chimps. We share with them a lot but rape is our own cultivated flaw. THIS is something to think about. The fact that rape is a cruel and criminal act performed nowadays not only against women but anyone vulnerable (Gay, Transgender or children) only puts this act in proper light.

   We need to educate this out from our human inheritance, we need to educate mutual respect and we need to cut off from the long forgotten conditions that had lead to this act.Each time when a  “ NO!” it’s disregarded, each time when someone forces itself on another one because it can, it’s à rape and and the life of the victim is brutally changed, if not taken away.

It’s a long way out of this dark shadow and the moment to start is now. We live in the dawn of a new century. We cannot let the “Estelles” to keep dying and to die in vain. We owe them that much just as we owe to our daughters, sisters, mothers, girlfriends to give them the chance to live their lives in freedom and dignity, and not as potential prey/victims.

Paul White’s “Estelle’s Tattoo” is à Must Read. You can find it here : https://alittlemorefiction.wordpress.com/

Don’t scroll down easily. Let’s break the habit and let’s erase rape from our long term inheritance!