Page 13 of Sincerely, Butterfly

I need to get there fast and figure out what those three have planned for tonight. Because I want a front row seat.

CHAPTER

THREE

NOLA

Most studentswho attend my school live in the Garden District, the same area my family does. But unlike everyone else, our house isn’t a big flashy mansion, which I’m very happy about.

I like our house. The pastel peach exterior and white trim accents make it look homey and welcoming. While it is still a large house with six bedrooms, it is somehow cute and quaint. The white and pastel colors keep it bright and alive. The backyard is large enough for a pool and my greenhouse, which is all that I care about.

When I pull into the driveway, I’m relieved to see that my parents' cars aren’t there. Having the house to myself will make my plans for the night go a hell of a lot smoother.

Grabbing my school bag and new prized possession, I get out and head inside.

“Mom!” I call, kicking off my shoes and looking around the foyer for any signs of life. When I’m met with silence, I sigh with relief and head for the stairs. “Dad?” It’s a Friday afternoon, so the likelihood of him being home is slim, but it doesn’t hurt to cover all my bases.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, I listen. Nothing. Not a single peep. A smile curves at my lips, and my excitement boils back up.

Taking two steps at a time, I rush upstairs to my room.

When I open my bedroom door, I grin at the sight of Skittles. “Hello, my sweet baby boy,” I coo to my beautiful pet raven as he sits perched on the open windowsill. It’s as if he were waiting for me to come home, the glass pane pushed up, allowing him to come and go freely.

Tossing my bag onto the floor, I lay the jacket on my bed, and make my way to the other side of my room. “How was your day today?”

“Hi, Skittles. Pretty baby,” he replies back.

“Yes, you are.” I grin, petting his fuzzy little head. “Such a pretty baby.”

He makes a few little clicking sounds and rubs his head into the palm of my hand, his happy noises sounding almost musical. “Hi. Hi. Hi,” he repeats, making me laugh.

“Someone's a happy boy today.”

Skittles has been with me for a few years, ever since I rescued him as a baby.

I was out on my regular nightly walk when I heard the sound of something in distress. When I finally found the source of the sound, I found the cutest, fuzziest little baby raven. I assumed that he had fallen out of his nest while learning to fly.

I lingered, keeping an eye on him to see if his parents were nearby and would swoop in to help him, but after a half hour of listening to his cries of distress, I couldn’t handle it anymore. Then I realized he hadn’t moved from his spot, not even to walk around.

I quickly scooped him up and rushed him to the vet. Turns out he had a broken leg.

My heart hurt for the little guy. The vet told me it would be best to put him down as he would be vulnerable in the wild, and they weren’t in the position to take on the care of any wild animals at the moment. I snatched him back so fast and spent the rest of the summer nursing him back to health, with the skills I learned from my dad.

After Skittles was able to walk on his own again, I had gained myself a raven-shaped shadow. He’d quickly become attached to me, and I realized he was a very smart boy. We’d spend hours every day learning new things, like retrieving items, coming back, and talking like a parrot does. He became my best friend. My only friend, really. But people suck, so honestly, I didn’t care. Animals are much better companions, and I’ve never met a more loyal living being than Skittles. It’s safe to say I’m one of those crazy pet moms. Only… probably worse.

“I have a big job for you today, okay?” I give him one last head scratch before crossing the room to my desk. Pulling the drawer open, I grab Skittles’ harness.

“I need you to find Jay-Jay, okay?” Skittlesmakes a clicking sound, tossing his head back. “Good boy.” I laugh. He lets me strap him into the homemade harness, fastening it into place.

It’s not meant to hold him back or keep him on a leash. Its purpose is to properly support the tiny camera strapped to his chest, the black straps blending in with his ebony feathers.

Once it’s snugly in place, I grab the laptop from my desk and bring it with me to my bed

Sitting down, I cross my legs, open the laptop, and pull up the camera feed. The screen fills with an image of me on my bed.Perfect.

Looking over at Skittles, I grin. “All good.”

“Skittles!” he screams. “Skittles! Skittles!”