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It's been a while now — a year, I think. Even with all of the help they've tried to give me, consolation, therapy, medication, nothing helped. I still see you. You talk to me, you tell me that it's okay, but I know that it's not. I should have been paying better attention, my blonde little Butterfly. You must be lonely if you're haunting me, more maybe you feel pity for me, your elder sister, because I'm still here, moping around. Did you know that I tried to save you? Did you know that I came so close and you still slipped away? The water was freezing — it was ice to me — but I plunged my hand into the water after you anyways. The current ripped you away from me, my Butterfly. You barely got a proper burial, too. Horrible, isn't it? They couldn't find your body at first, and then, when everything was all set up to go, when they finally found you, we held the funeral. On the day you were to be buried, it rained. A watery funeral for a drowned little Butterfly.
I can remember things from the past; sometimes it's cloudy. Just things you've said to me, just things that you've done, little quirks of yours that I absolutely adored. My Butterfly, do you know how much I miss you? You have to, don't you, to still be here with me. They say "It'll be okay" and "She's in a better place", but are you really? You're here with me. How is being trapped here any better? Mom, Dad, even my therapist — nobody believes me. Nobody listens when I tell them that I still see you. They're all more concerned about the fact that I told them I don't want you to be so lonely. They've all focused on that; I told them I'd break if it continued, that I couldn't handle it.
I can't stand seeing you now, you know that? I can't stand seeing you soaking wet and pitiful. You with that damned smile, you with that damned voice. You speak and water hits the floor as if it was just trying to remind me of what a terrible sister I've been. But you know what, Butterfly? I won't let you be lonely. I'll give you some people to pick from. You can have mom, dad, some girls I remember you hanging out with once, and soon enough, when all of this is to come to a close, you can have me too.
I want you to be happy wherever you are, I want you to leave that pitiful appearance of a drowned girl. All I'm doing is because I love you my Butterfly. I thought that I would always want to see you, no matter what state you took, but I was wrong. I was so wrong. I don't want to be reminded; I don't want to remember the fact that you drowned, little Butterfly. I know I should have watched you, so please, just stop showing up before me. Are you angry with me? Is that it? Are you angry that I didn't watch you?
My Butterfly, I thought you would be safe! I swear... I must have done something so wrong for you to want to cause me this pain.
The first young girl was easy to draw in, did you know that, my little blonde Butterfly? I promised her gifts, I promised her you — a friend. After you left, she was always alone. She had refused to let anyone else be close to her. Can you forgive me now? Will you stop staring at me with those painfully concerned eyes? Lying orbs, that's what they are. Lying, watery orbs. I'm sure right now that if I was to turn my head around, you would be there, my Butterfly. You would embrace me, you would be crying, because another Butterfly had their wings torn from them. You know, they looked so much like you — they weren't blonde, of course, but they had the same messy hair. They had the same watery look to their eyes, and they wore the same faded lavender dress that you did. You must have bought them together, didn't you? I should have known.
I wonder, if I turn right now, if I tear my eyes from the water, will you come to embrace me like I think? Will you truly be there? It's a horrible world without you. It's cold. I guess I should muster up the courage to turn right? I want to hug you right now. I want to see you. I told the therapist just the other day that I keep seeing you still, but he just gave me more medication. I told him that you looked concerned for me, that you looked like you truly wanted me to get better, but I don't know if I want to. I don't want to get better until I know that you are happy. Butterfly, you come first, and I come second.
I think the next one will be that young black-haired girl you seem to adore so much, the one with the cute dresses that you envy and the garnet eyes you adore. I want you to be as happy as you can be! Maybe I'll even tell the therapist that you have a friend now. Oh I do hope to see her around with you, my Butterfly. It'll be nice to see you not so concerned for me. You don't need to worry about me, anyways, Butterfly.
You don't seem happy, Butterfly. If anything, you seem more concerned. I want to tell you that it's alright, that I'll be there with you soon, but I'm afraid that you'll open your mouth. I'm afraid that you might drown under all of the water that seems to drop from your mouth, Butterfly. I'm elated to see you still want to approach me, though. I'm elated to see that you're not upset with me for choosing the wrong people to be your friends. None of them even showed up today, nor did they yesterday, nor the day before. But you know, I think the next to join you will be Mom and Dad, Butterfly. Is it alright for me to pet your hair like I am? It's strange now that I think about it. Every time I touch you, every time I try to hold you, you feel like air. That can't be right, can it? You seem solid, you obscure my sight of things, so why do you always feel like nothingness, Butterfly?
On the topic of Mom and Dad, I think they'll be the next to come see you. Mom is always so depressed without you, she said that she wants to see you so badly — I told her that I see you all the time. I told her that I can arrange for her to see you tomorrow. Don't cry my Butterfly, don't cry. It's alright, I mean, after Mom comes to see you, Dad will, and then I will. I'll even make it so that me and Dad see you together, Butterfly! Won't that be nice? Water is soaking to bed, why are you crying? Don't you want to see Mom and Dad? Don't you want us to be able to play like we did?
Do you not approve of me letting everyone see you? Are you jealous? Do you want me all to yourself? It's adorable that you get jealous like this. My little Butterfly wants big sister all to herself.
Are you happy, my Butterfly? Mom came to join you — and now I'm going over so that Dad can too. But I have to be quiet about you... I have a plan though, so don't worry, Butterfly. It's sure to work! Just wait. I'm knocking on the door, and I'm so excited. We can all be a family again, Butterfly! We can all be a family again! I heard the click of the door, and his mouth is moving, I think he invited me in, because he moved out of the way. This is perfect, my Butterfly! This is perfect!
It's probably boring to just sit beside me, listening to us talk, but don't worry. I think now is a good time to ask if he wants something to drink — I'm thirsty myself anyways. My last drink, and it's spent with our dear father. Isn't that wonderful, Butterfly? And even better you're here too! I think I faintly hear him ask about you, I can only tell because of the name that he used. Maybe he asked if I still see you? I know I'm shaking my head, I know I'm lying to Dad, but he'll know that something's up if I don't lie. I've thought all of this out, don't worry. He'll be there soon. Today, me and Dad both join you.
I have the drinks all set, and now all I have to do is put the clear liquid in. I can cover it up somehow, maybe tell him I accidentally spilled the bleach on myself? Oh, but he might ask what I used it for. I should be careful then. Hopefully Dad is as oblivious as ever. I don't care about the mess anyways, if they catch me now, what will they do? Throw a dead woman in jail? I'm sorry Butterfly, I can't help but laugh at the thought of people putting a rotting girl into some poor tramp's prison cell.
I gave him his glass, now he just has to take a drink from it. Now all we both have to do is take a drink from our glasses. A painful death, just like yours. Won't you be happy? Now I can connect with your suffering better, Butterfly!
Blood is covering the floor, Butterfly, and it really hurts. It burns internally. I hate this, I hate this pain. Is that what you felt? This burning feeling? I'm sure you didn't see all of this blood before, or have a frantic weeping girl yelling out the name "NYX! NYX!" as she tried to help you. You poor innocent girl... but don't worry, I got Dad too. He'll be there shortly. It was hard to coax him into it, but I eventually got him to drink the bleach with me.
I can't stand this pain anymore, everything's going black now anyways. So I have just one last thing for you, Butterfly. I want you to be the one to guide me to the world that you know, I want you to stay by my side. A bleached Monarch, and a drowned Two-tailed Swallowtail.