Vampires and Butterflies

Vampires and Butterflies
Jim was tired. He hadn’t had the luxury of sleep, like most humans do, yet you’d think due to this, he wouldn’t need sleep. Jim was sick and tired… Sick and tired of the same old thing, everyday, every hour, every time, the same OLD thing. Jim was depressed, he walked along concrete roads, as if woven together by the most agile hands—it was smooth, and easy to walk upon. His converse kicked up against the very little gravel, and he listened to the distant sound, his pale blue eyes lay upon the ground, watching. They shimmered and shined, and the moonlight struck his gray pigment, and it shined just as bright, as if emeralds had been encrusted within it. He sighed, a sad, lonesome sigh. Jim grieved over his supposed unlucky “fate.” The man wasn’t like most vampires, those who were content with what they were, and who they were. He wanted to be human… He wanted to feel, he wanted the pleasure of hearing his heartbeat thump against his well –structured chest… Jim was cold, very cold. His skin was the color of snow, so white, so… cold.
Jim began to feel his strength fade… He was growing weak, and his walking had slowed, he supposed he should stop to feed. How sad, how cruel—the things he had to do to survive, so abnormal. Jim’s eyes closed, and you could no longer see the light blue that encircled his pupils. He was lazy, too tired to go and find some poor innocent person to badly injure. Another sigh escaped his lips, and he looked up at the clouded sky. There were no stars to dimly light his way, Jim had been walking aimlessly for hours. He continued to trudge along, he groaned and his shoulders slumped. Jim began weaker by the minute, and stopped. He gave up. Jim decided he’d lay there to rot, to decay.
Jim softly bit down on his bottom lip, it wasn’t worth it. His fingers trembled, and he clenched his fist, making his knuckles even whiter from the force. Once more, Jim’s eyes slightly closed, and he tilted his head back, thinking. If only he could feel the blood rushing through his veins, if only he could feel the strong curling of his fingers that formed a fist. He suddenly shivered, something had gently placed itself on his shoulder, and his eyes trailed down to look towards it… a butterfly. He managed to smile slightly, though he was still slowly weakening, yet the graceful insect had somehow made him unfold his fist and straighten his posture. It fluttered his wings, and Jim felt relief wash over him, to see it had not yet taken flight. ‘What a pretty thing,’ he thought. Vampires and butterflies, complete opposites, but it was a mystery to why it had landed upon his broad shoulder. Perhaps, it had not known what Jim really was… Oh, the butterfly. Graceful, harmless, beautiful… Was Jim any different from it? Yes, of course. Jim then frowned, and the butterfly tickled his skin as it crawled down his arm and onto the back of his hand. He narrowed his eyes, and lifted his arm, brining the butterfly closer to his face. He examined it, carefully, quietly, consistently. Jim’s eyes traced every crack, every line enfolded into its wings. Again he smiled and spoke softly, “How pretty…” He paused a moment to catch his breath, then exhaled. His hands once more began shaking, “Tell me, Monarch… How do you stand lonely paths such as this?” Jim chuckled; he was talking to a butterfly. “You’re alone, aren’t you?” He shook his head; he knew Monarchs traveled in groups. “I never thought how lucky a simple winged thing like you could be…”
Jim then pondered upon his discovery. Butterflies… They were such gorgeous things, with fluorescent colors and mysterious ways. Jim wanted these traits, he wanted a sense of belonging. All butterflies had these individual characteristics, yet Jim stuck out like a sore thumb. Jim snapped out of it, he was surprised to see the butterfly left his hand and made its way onto his nose. He blinked and looked down at it, staying still, being careful not to frighten the thing away. Jim tilted his head to the side slightly and crinkled his nose. Jim pursed his lips into a straight line and his breathing became calm. “You know… Maybe, we’re not so different at all, my little friend.” He murmured, it began flapping its small wings, and removed itself from his nose. Jim furrowed his brows and looked up at it curiously, it just hovered there… His eyes looked up into the sky, and the moon had soon come out of its hiding. A gust of wind blew a group of butterflies into his sight, and his friend soon followed. The huge group of flying pretty things circled around him, then down their own path. He was happy for the butterfly, and as he saw it disappear into the collection of similar elements, he disappeared himself, noticing how different they actually were…