Page 54 of Starving Butterfly
Her hand lingered on my cheek, too lightly.
“Hey—” my voice came out rough, broken. “Stay with me.”
Her eyes didn’t blink, didn’t move. A coldness formed in my chest. I shifted her in my arms, adjusting her as if that would fix it. Like I could put her back together if I just —
“Trouble,” I muttered, sharper this time. “Hey open your eyes.”
Nothing. No words.
The surrounding noise kept going—gunfire, shouting, boots crushing snow — but it all sounded distant, muffled. Like someone shoved my head underwater.
I pressed my hand to her chest. Waited. Nothing.
“No.” the word slipped out before I could stop it. Quiet. Useless. “No, no?—”
My hand moved to her neck, searching, pressing harder than I meant to. There had to be something… anything.
Nothing.
I stilled for a second. Maybe two.
My thumb brushed her cheek, smearing the blood that had already started to cool.
“She was fine,” I said under my breath. “She was talking.” Like saying it out loud could make it true. If I had said it enough times, she would have woken up.
My hand came around the back of her head, cradling her closer to my chest. She was too still. Too quiet.
The world kept moving, and she didn’t.
41
IT’S NOT TRUE… IT CAN’T BE TRUE
December 29th
The explosion rocked us forward, gunfire ricocheted off the van walls as we crouched down for cover. I grabbed the pistoloff my waist, pulling the slide back and rushing forward into the chaos, no longer able to sit by and wait. Heavily armedmen shot across the expansive lawn as heat from the blast melted the snow around the hole in the wall. Bullets whined and whizzed past as I returned fire; something caught my eye. A poorly groomed man covered in dirt started walking from the hole in the wall. He was carrying something in his arms. Snow crunched under my boots as I ran toward the mansion. My eyes caught the blood smeared across his chest. The man had dropped to his knees. I ran forward. No, it’s not her. The thought came fast. It wasn’t her. My breath caught in my lungs as I surged forward to confirm if my eyes were playing tricks on me.
There was too much red. It soaked into the white as if it didn’t belong. My feet gave way as the red spread. Violent shades of maroon that leeched out around the man in an uneven arc. Everything else disappeared. The gunfire, the shouting, the cold. All I could see was him.
Some string holding me to reality snapped when my eyes registered the body in his arms. The blonde hair, caked with dirt and blood.
“Nooooooo!” The scream tore from my lips in disbelief. I stared forward into green eyes that mirrored my own fractured heart.
Hands pulled me up, pulled me away. Cole’s face grabbed mine. Words formed on his lips, but I couldn’t hear. It all sounded too far away. Static, like a radio turned too far up.
My eyes stayed glued to the man. To the girl.
My butterfly. Gone.
42
I CAN’T GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN…
“Trouble…” The tears slid down my face. Her eyes were still open, still as blue as the sky. Still looking at me with love. She was okay… why isn’t she okay?
I looked around desperately, searching for anything or anyone who could help. Somebody to turn back time; instead,chaos continued around me, oblivious to the one thing that mattered most. Her.
My heart ripped as I looked down again; it wasn’t Gabriella. It was Oliver. A wail caught in my throat. I didn’t have the courage to go through this again. Not again. Please.
