The Lost Butterfly-a story of aliens, love and humans. Part4. A blow from the past. Ch. 4b

Ch. 4b

 

Fuyuki stormed out of the building. His head was spinning and he couldn’t focus properly on anything. He couldn’t face himself, he couldn’t face Yoshiasu. He was like a cornered, wild animal: desperate and ready to snap! He was quickly falling apart. His face was flushed and tears were building up in his eyes. He took a cab; he didn’t want to cry on the street. The cab left him in front of his studio. There was no one around to see him entering.

He shut the door behind him and sat on a chair, trying to gather his thoughts. He could see no way out of this mess. He knew that Yoshiasu would be deeply hurt and Fuyuki couldn’t bear that thought. He has reached the end; he couldn’t fight anymore. He looked around the studio, looking for something. He looked up and saw himself in a mirror; he shuddered. All that beauty has caused him only trouble and pain. The only good thing in his life was Yoshiasu and his love; now that he foolishly lost it, he had no more reasons to get going. He took a cutter from a shelf and went to the bathroom. He started the warm water and let it fill the bathtub. He slowly undressed…

Outside in the street the man sitting in an inconspicuous cart was watching intently. He was pleased to notice how much those photos had affected the young artist. He was quite curious what else would follow. He waited patiently, like a spider waiting for his catch…

Yoshiasu was intrigued by Little John’s message but he suspected that it has to do with Fuyuki’s odd behavior and clouded face. Little John opened the door and shook hands with the older man. To Yoshiasu the young native looked deeply under the weather. He decided to let him speak on his terms. Little John turned the computer screen towards Yoshiasu and opened the photo file. He said nothing just pointed to the images, stood up and stopped at the window, his head buried in his hands. While Yoshiasu watched the photos, the silence in the room became heavy, dense almost tangible.

-I won’t mind if you’d beat out the hell of me-said slowly Little John-But don’t blame him! He couldn’t remember anything! I was totally crazed at that time and I wasn’t accustomed to take no for an answer. The moment I laid my hands on him, he cried out for you. After four months without you he was almost desperate though he never let it show.

I was a stupid, cocky, selfish bastard at a major crossroad of my life but I was unable to let go. The world was mine, at least I thought so. He was afraid I might do something foolish and hurt everyone/including myself/ so he gave in to my pressure to satisfy my ego and get me back on the right track.

All I can say in my defense is that I was young and confused and that he has always been beautiful and magic. It was Old John’s decision to make him forget; he cared about Fuyuki and wanted to protect him. He was a gifted medicine man; he gave him a powerful drogue and kept him in a deep sleep while he suggested him with a false memory. But now that he knows all, I’m afraid of what he might do…

-And that’s not the only dilemma-murmured Yoshiasu. He wasn’t even angry; his logical and analytical mind followed the recount but his inside was numbed.

-Where did those photos come from?-he finally asked.

-Fuyuki said that it was given to him by a friendly enemy. Somebody visited him two days ago and gave him the pictures. Fuyuki was shocked and disturbed by them and mainly by the fact that he was unable to remember anything. Here is the man’s card…

Yoshiasu took the man’s card and read it; he quickly realized who it was. He also understood that this whole thing was meant to destroy Fuyuki by breaking up his relationship with Yoshiasu. His mind cleared in an instant; Fuyuki wasn’t an ordinary person. Despite all the good moments of his recent life, he was still very vulnerable and defenseless. Deep inside, he has remained the same trustful child, unable to see the evil in the people around, always considering himself the only one to blame for whatever occurs.

Yoshiasu turned towards the young native; Little John has matured quickly after marriage and the birth of his first child. He was a handsome young man, powerful and attractive but much more composed than when they first met. He could understand why Fuyuki has fallen for him, lonely and confused. Little John proved to be at that time an irresistible…stalker. As these things settled in his mind, Yoshiasu grew increasingly worried about Fuyuki. By now he blamed only himself for not being around Fuyuki when he needed him. His mind raced to find where he could go; he stood up and looked for the keys. The ones from the studio were not in place; Yoshiasu turned to Little John.

-Come on, hurry up! We have to find him before it’s too late and he does something to himself.

-My car is outside-said Little John. Let’s go; just tell me where…

They arrived at the studio but there was silence all around. There was only one parked car on the opposite side of the street. They left Little John’s car and hurried inside.

The moment they burst inside the studio Little John already sensed the nauseating smell of iron: it was blood, fresh blood. The studio was dead silent; there was nobody in the small kitchen or in any of the rooms. As they turned towards the bathroom, the smell increased, hitting hard the young native’s keen senses. He signaled towards Yoshiasu and gave a strong push to the bathroom door. For a moment they both stared in horror; the one they were looking for was in the bathtub, eyes shut and very pale. He was barely breathing. The water around him was reddened by the blood seeping from his slashed wrists. Fuyuki has committed suicide.

Little John quickly pulled him out and carried him to the bed while Yoshiasu was franticaly searching for something to stop the bleeding. They finally garroted Fuyuki’s arms; put some bandages on the wrists and Yoshiasu called 911. They sat on the bed and tried to get Fuyuki back to his senses. It was a hopeless try; he was barely alive.

Seeing Fuyuki lying there, broken and bleeding to death Yoshiasu realized what a fool he had been even for a moment. All his life, Fuyuki has given away what everybody wanted from him: his body. He has kept for himself only what was untouchable: his heart and his soul.

His heart belonged to Yoshiasu; he was in love with him and that was something he wouldn’t have given away. Just as he said, he gave Little John all he could give; the rest was not for him to give away. But when his memories returned, Fuyuki realized that Yoshiasu might not understand that and his only reason to live/his love/ could be lost forever.

Yoshiasu felt ashamed; once again he failed to protect the one he really loved, the one who really counted in his life. Swallowing hard he gently ruffled the black strands lying on disarray on the pillow. His hand was visibly shaking as he caressed Fuyuki’s face. He desperately cried out:

-I am such a fool! How could I let this happen?! What was in my mind? I’ve promised so many times that I’ll protect him…

-I’d never forgive myself if anything happens to him-said Little John in a restrained voice. I have equally caused this; I breached his trust and used his feelings for me to satisfy my own selfish ego…

They looked at each other desperately searching for hope in the other’s eyes. At that moment the paramedics arrived and took care of Fuyuki. They asked the two men to come down to the hospital and give some blood for their injured friend; after that they left in a hurry.

Yoshiasu and Little John returned to the flat; the young native sank on the bed, numbed while Yoshiasu did his best to put himself together and prepare a small bag of personal items for Fuyuki. Little John went to the bathroom to wash his face; when he remembered the blood streaks on the bathtub and the smell of blood, he got sick. Yoshiasu put a hand on his back.

-Come-he said comfortingly. I’ve made a strong coffee for you and me; there’s something to eat to before we leave for the hospital. You should call your family; Soraya must be worried by now.

Little John washed his face and gave a silent nod. He called Soraya and told her that Fuyuki has been rushed to the hospital and that he would stay overnight at Yoshiasu until their friend is stabilized. Soraya was very upset to hear about Fuyuki; she expressed her concerns and her hopes for the best. Fuyuki was their beloved friend; she made Little John promise to call her as soon as possible about his condition.

The two men sat at the kitchen table, holding the coffee mugs and picking from time to time small bits of food from a plate. Little John looked around; in this modern environment there were a few colored spots, discreetly placed. Those were the unmistakable signs of Fuyuki’s touch. It was Fuyuki’s natural gift to fill the world around him with warmth and magic. He did it with the same ease as he was breathing and he asked for nothing in exchange.

-He never asked for anything-said suddenly Yoshiasu, like he was guessing Little John’s thoughts. He never kept anything for himself. What have we done to him?

He looked straight into Little John’s eyes.

-We cornered him until he broke-he continued. I should have known how fragile he was inside…

-I knew nothing about him and it was so easy and comfortable to take him for its face value…sighed Little John.

He stood up and washed his empty mug and so did Yoshiasu. They left the house and hurried to the hospital. Fuyuki was still in critical state; the doctors stopped the bleeding but he needed a transfusion. Yoshiasu and Little John were compatible so they quickly donated the necessary amount. They were not allowed to see him; the doctor asked them to return the next morning and promised to keep them informed about Fuyuki. For the moment he was in intensive care, his life hanging on a thread.  The two men returned to Yoshiasu’s flat. They took a brief lunch and looked for something to fill the day. So they talked. Yoshiasu played for a moment with a silver wristband left on the table by Fuyuki; he then broke the silence and turned to Little John.

-As you can easily imagine, I am upset about the photos. Yet, you have an excuse in all this: you didn’t know and even now you know nothing about Fuyuki’s past.

Little John raised an eyebrow questioningly.

-Fuyuki has never owned his body. Since his early childhood he has been constantly used and abused by his father. All he could keep for himself were his deeply buried feelings. The two of us we share a special connection; I’m sure that finding him on that cold morning, buried under a pile of leaves and dirt was something meant for me. And we really love each other.

The only thing that comforts me in this mess is that I know that Fuyuki cares for you. If things were meant to happen, at least he wasn’t taken by force. In his own, unusual way he has given himself willingly.

My pride is hurt but my mind says that it’s only male selfishness. I’ll survive that; I love him more than anything.

Little John was shocked but for the first time in his life he came to a deeper understanding of people. What Yoshiasu has just said explained Fuyuki’s vulnerability and torment. Little John regretted deeply all that happened; if only he had known, he wouldn’t have touched his friend even with a finger. Old John’s insight about the young artist proved correct…

-Despite all this mess-he said in a low voice- you are lucky, Yoshiasu. I know that Fuyuki loves you deeply. You know, at the beginning things went smoothly and he enjoyed the time spent in our land. But as time went on the separation from you started to wear him down. After he realized my interest in him, he did his best to avoid me. For him it was another blow and by now it was too much. While I was busy with my wedding preparations, he worked along with Old John and the craftsmen of the neighborhood. All these things filled his days but the evenings were empty. So each evening he rode out in a spot where you used to stay together and he curled up in the grass, crying for hours. Each evening, each night. For hours. Desperately, heartbreakingly. He never complained but I knew. I was worried about him so I followed him silently and witnessed his pain. I couldn’t comfort him; I knew it would end badly. But it was deeply disturbing to watch his torment and not being able to help.

Little John paused for a moment and looked to Yoshiasu; the older man was visibly shaken by this recount.

-I never suspected that it will affect him so much…For a moment I took his bravery for real. You’re right; I was so lucky but I haven’t properly noticed it. Fuyuki is more than meets the eyes…

Little John hesitantly put a hand on Yoshiasu’s shoulder.

-It won’t do us any good to stay here all day long and think about our mistakes. Let’s go back to the studio and clean up the place. Some real work will at least exhaust us properly.

Yoshiasu agreed; they drove to the studio and stopped in front of it. They were about to leave the car when Yoshiasu grabbed Little John’s arm.

-Stay still for a moment; we’ve been followed-he said in a tense voice. His face was dark with anger. I think it’s the bastard who has caused all this!-he said. He’s following us to gloat over our grief!

Little John lifted his eyes and looked into the rearview mirror; a car stopped on the opposite side of the street. The young man remembered the car and the shaded face inside it. His eyes narrowed dangerously; he could sense Yoshiasu tensing and breathing heavily next to him. Finally the young Japanese made up his mind.

-Let’s go inside before he realizes that we know about him. I have something in my mind.

The man in the car watched as the young native drove off leaving behind the Japanese guy at the studio. After a while, the latter descended and placed a notice on the entrance door, then returned inside. The man waited for a while but curiosity got the best of him; he came out and crossed the street to read the notice. It stated that the studio was for rent. Well, it looked like the young artist was in trouble; the man knew about the suicide attempt. He smirked then he rang the bell. When the young Japanese opened the door he pretended to be interested in renting the place.  The young man let him in and showed him around. The place has been cleaned but there was a faint odor of blood lingering in the air. The man smiled inside; this was the place where a tragedy has freshly unfolded. He watched everything with eager eyes, looking furtively from time to time to his host.

The young man was visibly upset but composed. The man asked about the previous owner but the answer was that he was ill. The man promised to return the next day with answer; but as he was heading to the door he found himself face to face with the young native. The well built young man was baring his way out on purpose; his eyes were dark and his face tense.

-So-he said slowly. You became curious; but curiosity killed the cat…You came to see us crumble and rejoice over our misery…That’s not nice, not nice at all!

-And it wasn’t wise either-came the voice from behind.

The Japanese was staring at the man in cold furry. The man felt cold sweat running down his spine; he was trapped between two tall, strong and very determined young men. He had no chance against them. He tried to deny his identity but they laughed at him. Yoshiasu had kept the card and he had the memory of a high-tech computer. The man knew that the trick was useless. He was at their mercy.

And they toyed with him; they didn’t touch him but talked about him and his fate over his head. They made him sweat profusely and tremble for his life. They knew he was almost broken after two hours of talk but they looked through him and proceeded. By the end of the third hour the man was a total mess, begging for his life and trying to capture their attention. Then they stopped and turned to him.

-You’re a speck of dirt, nothing else. If anything happens to Fuyuki what you have heard is only a tiny bit of what you’ll get from us-said the young native.

-Now, take this pencil and write down that you’ve blackmailed Fuyuki into suicide and that you are ready to face the consequences.

The Japanese guy held out a paper and a pen and watched over him until he finished the declaration. He read carefully the paper then he folded it.

-You can leave now-he said in a cold voice. Go and pray for Fuyuki’s recovery and for your miserable life.

He opened the door and let the man out. He shut the door without even looking after the departing guy. Yoshiasu turned to Little John.

-Mission accomplished. Let’s go home, my friend.

As they arrived home, they called the hospital and asked about Fuyuki; he’s been stabilized and the hopes for his recovery were higher by now. Both young men felt relieved; suddenly they were leaning on each other for hope and com fort. Just like before, Fuyuki was bringing them together. They sat  atop of the bed with the TV on but with their mind set elsewhere.

-Yoshiasu-said Little John quietly. Would you tell  me about Fuyuki? Please…

-Only if you tell me more about you and your family-came the answer.

Little John smiled.

-Gladly; I promise. I wanted to tell you about a certain moment. You know, at the bachelor party my friends tried their best to convince Fuyuki to dress up as a girl. They wanted to trick me and they all agreed that he was the best candidate. Fuyuki said that he had once such an experience and that it was more than enough for him.

After the endless nagging of the boys he talked them about the party and they all laughed a lot listening to his recount. He made it sound very funny; it was quite enjoyable. He found a picture on his cell phone and we could finally see him dressed up.

Yoshiasu, weren’t his unmistakable lavender eyes, I would have never guessed that it wasn’t a real girl…she was stunning; the boys looked incredulously at the picture and with a lot more respect to him.

-It was our friend Angela’s idea and neither I, nor her boyfriend knew what to expect-said Yoshiasu as he was recalling the memory of that party.

We were already dressed up/I was a …samurai and George was a knight/ and we were surrounded by happily chatting young ladies. There was enough noise mixed with music around us to realize that at one moment, it ended brusquely.

I saw George’s eyes rounding up and I turned when Angela called m,e telling that she has found what I’ve lost. I stood there speechless and watched him for minutes. Just as you said, only those unusually beautiful eyes hinted out that it was Fuyuki. I was afraid to even touch him; he was so beautiful and delicate. George said that he was afraid that I might faint.

On the other hand Fuyuki felt scared and intimidated by all those people staring at him and by my silence. He turned pink and I saw the tears building up in the corner of his eyes. Only then I was able to speak and finally tell him that he was beautiful and that I loved him. George himself was amazed and he couldn’t believe that this image was not due to makeup tricks. All that evening and night nobody knew that my companion was a young…man. Fuyuki stood close to me, afraid that somebody might ask him for a dance. Probably I looked menacing enough to keep him safe but I assure you, Fuyuki was the most beautiful girl at that New Year’s Eve party.

-I see…murmured Little John.

Yoshiasu turned to him.

-Tell me about your family, Little John. Are you happy?

-I‘m the luckiest bastard on Earth, believe me-said Little John, his mood suddenly lifting. I have a wife that is equally beautiful and wise. I’m blessed with her love and a wonderful child. What else should I wish for? Well, I hope our next baby to be a girl, just like her mom-he grinned. The riding school is a real success, thanks to both of your help so we have a good life together! By the way, I’m going to call Soraya to tell her that Fuyuki is getting better. I know she worries about that.

Little John went to the living to call Soraya. They spoke for quite a while until Little John was sure that she has relaxed a bit. Her pregnancy went well and her young husband was doting over her. Yoshiasu smiled for himself; the young man was concerned and protective with his loved ones. He really was lucky. Yoshiasu thought about Fuyuki; the house…no, his whole life was empty without him. He fell asleep with his mind set on his love.

The next day they were at the hospital almost at the first hour; they looked for the doctor and found him at his personal headquarter, looking over some medical files when the two young men knocked on his door.

-You can visit him now. He’s still very weak and dizzy but he can put up with a 10 minutes visit.

Yoshiasu and Little John looked at each other with embarrassed faces. The doctor raised an eyebrow:

-Is there a problem?

Yoshiasu swallowed and opened his mouth.

-Yes. In fact there is…

-And what would that be -asked the doctor, his curiosity aroused by the two grown –ups looking like two guilty school-boys.

-The problem is that we don’t know how he will react…

-Aren’t you his closest relatives? He’s married to you, isn’t it?-he asked watching Yoshiasu blush.

-Yes…but…

-But we are the two idiots who caused this!-blurted out Little John.

The doctor looked from one another.

-Then-he said stressing each word- it is about time to make amends and prove him that he’s important for both of you. He needs a reason to get well and live. Quit being idiots! You’ll find me here if anything occurs.

He turned back to his papers while the two men left the room. They looked at each other, trying to find the necessary resolve to face Fuyuki. Finally, Yoshiasu sighed and gave a friendly push to Little John.

-Let’s go; we deserved this.

-I know-mumbled the young native. But I’ve never been so nervous in my life…

The room had a large window facing the corridor. Surrounded by ticking instruments, hoses and wires Fuyuki looked even thinner than he was. He was still asleep.

The two men cautiously stepped inside, closed the door and stood next to him, watching in silence. Fuyuki was pale, almost translucent with dark shades underlining his eyes. His breath was shallow but even. Each wrist was wrapped in bandages so his hands looked like broken wings resting on the blanket. Seeing him so fragile and torn, Yoshiasu turned his head in pain while Little John growled in frustration. Fuyuki opened his eyes and looked at them. The deep, violet eyes were glazed by pain. The moment he focused on them, Fuyuki bit his lower lip and shut his eyes but he couldn’t stop the sudden flow of tears. For a few moments he struggled to hold back but he choked then burst in violent sobs.

The two were numbed by this sudden burst of pain and anguish; they felt helpless and unhappy with what they’ve caused. Yoshiasu broke first; he sat on the bed and took Fuyuki in his arms, holding him tight.

-Fuyuki, please…please, stop crying! I’m sorry, I’m sorry; I’m such a fool and an idiot! Please, don’t cry anymore!

Fuyuki encircled his neck with his arms and hid his face in Yoshiasu’s shoulder. His body was still convulsing but he was crying silently. Little John sat on the opposite side and put a hand on his shoulder:

-Fuyuki, please…we’ve been through Hell; we thought we’ve lost you. Can you forgive us?

Fuyuki slowly turned back but he was shaking from weakness and the overwhelming emotions. Yoshiasu laid him own but kept holding his hand. Little John gently placed his palm on the other hand. Fuyuki closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again.

-I messed up everything-he whispered. I thought you would be better without me. I’m a nuisance and all I can do is to make trouble; I’m not able to take even a decent decision…

-Don’t be silly-said Yoshiasu. We might be fools and idiots but we both love you…

-Each of us in his own way-chuckled Little John. Soraya is expecting her second child; you have to come to see it, you are my best friend.

A tiny smile lit up Fuyuki’s face.

-Give her my love-he said –but tell her I need a little time to get over this.

-Ok, I will but don’t do anything stupid anymore! You’ve been quite a handful! Promise me!

-I promise…whispered Fuyuki.

Little John squeezed his hand and left. Yoshiasu accompanied him; they shook hands.

-Take care-he said as he turned to leave.

-You too-said Yoshiasu and returned to the room.

Fuyuki watched him intently, sadness washing over his face.

-You’ll always remember it and you’ll end up hating me-he said and his voice broke.

He turned away and closed his eyes; he felt deadly tired. His body was weak and his heart was broken. He wished he had died before anybody could’ve found him. Yoshiasu sat down and watched for a moment his broken and confused butterfly.

-Stop blaming and tormenting yourself for nothing-he said. I blame myself for all that happened; I have let myself forget how lucky I was to be loved by you and how empty my life was before I found you. Little John and I we agreed on the fact that both of us were selfish bastards, trying to own you and competing over your feelings. We almost lost you. At least he has a beautiful family that makes him whole and happy; but for me…you are everything. You make me whole and I’m happy and proud to protect you. Please, don’t fade away. Please!

Fuyuki looked at Yoshiasu with eyes filled with a mix of hope and despair.

-I feel so lost-he whispered.

Yoshiasu gently kissed him and held close.

-Don’t be lost; you’re my precious and I love you.

He caressed him until Fuyuki fell asleep; Yoshiasu took off his coat and took a chair. He sat next to his sleeping lover; he wasn’t going to let Fuyuki alone, desperate and insecure. Ever.

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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.

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://plus.google.com/+PaulWhiteWriter/posts/Hpy4M9sMvkH

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