A Butterfly's Flight

I had a flashback to a time when I was young. I must’ve been about 6 or 7 years old, before I was locked away. I remember playing out in an open field with many flowers. But I played with a young boy, maybe the age of 10. I don’t remember his name, I didn’t remember a lot about him. I’ve blocked so many memories throughout the years. Who knows what I’ve forgotten? But I knew absolutely without a doubt that he was my best friend, my only friend.

I looked into his eyes and pleaded, “Don’t hurt me!”

He pulled the knife down and ran his thumb across my cheek. “I’m so sorry; I thought you were someone else. I never meant to hurt you.” He said. He mumbled something else under his breath but I didn’t catch it.

I stared at him wide eyed and didn’t say anything. I’ve never seen a man up this close before let alone talk to one, besides my father, who is an old man. I took a long look at him. His eyes were a dark shade of brown, a stark contrast to my violet ones, his nose straight and elegant, a strong jaw with full lips and a mop of pitch black hair. He certainly was good looking.

He realized he was still half laying on me and sat back, putting his knife away. “So what’s a pretty little thing like you hiding away in here for?”

I stared at him still mouth slightly agape, “I’m not hiding.” I said simply.

He chuckled a little, “Love, I’ve seen you locked in here for a while and you haven’t left.”
I blinked, “You could see me from out there?” I said pointed to the window he came flying through.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, “Yeah, sometimes. Why don’t you ever leave?”
I looked away and ran my hand across my braid that lay on my shoulder. Finally I answered, “I’m not allowed to leave.”

His eyebrow rose up further, “Not allowed to leave? How so?”

There was a knock on the door.

“Chica, what was that I heard something crash?” My caretaker Melissa’s voice rang through the door.

The man looked at me, “Wh-.”

“Shhh,” I cut him off putting a finger over my lips.

I quickly thought of something to tell Melissa, “Oh, I just dropped my lamp again. I’ll clean it up,” I bit my lip.

“Okay, if you need anything just yell.” I didn’t bother replying back.

I turned to the man, “You need to leave.”

He flinched back a little bit, “I’m not leaving you here to be locked away in some secret room.”

I pushed him a little, “Come on, if my father finds you he will kill you.”

He stood like a stone wall in front of me, “I’m not leaving you.”

I rolled my eyes, “and what would we do if I did go with you? I have no money, I’ve never been out there in the real world.”

He smiled, “You could travel with me. I could really use the extra company.”

“Travel?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yep, I’m currently running away from some bad people. Hence why I almost stabbed you.” He said lightly.

“So you’re like an escaped convict running from the cops?” I asked.

He narrowed his eyes at me, “No, I’m not in trouble with the cops. I’ve never been arrested.”

“I don’t trust you.”

He raised his arms in the air, “Good god woman! I’m taking you with me whether you like it or not. I really don’t want your father to kill you for this.”

“But…”

He took my small hands into his large ones, “But Rose don’t you want freedom? To do anything you want? Not have to be confined to one place all of your life?”

“Yes, but…”

He sighed, “But what?”

“I don’t know your name.”