the butterfly

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic

This short story talks about the horrors of war and finding inner peace within yourself. it also shows us the not so obvious reasons why war is so traumatizing.

Submitted: May 25, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 25, 2018



The butterfly

  We create it. The arguing, the conflict, the war. Humanity is taught, that the only way to resolve things is by fighting physically for it? But why? Why are we taught that violence is the way to justice? Why are we taught that someone has to fall for someone else to win? Why?

I lost it all. Everything I loved was snatched right out of my hands. And all because of what? Land? Victory? Power? Why does everyone else have to suffer for one person’s selfish needs? That I never understood. I was only seven when it began. I still remember the endless ringing from the sirens. Or, the gruesome sights, that are cemented into my head. Even the crying soldiers, praying to take back the worst decision of their lives. But the one thing I remember, the one thing that I will never forget; my mother. I never believed that someone could be so significant, that for even a second could make you forget about something as frightful as war. I never thought that someone so frail, could make me smile when people were dying. But she did, and if it wasn’t for her, I  wouldn’t be here.

They called me a peacock. Someone who wasn’t only admired for their colorful feathers and aesthetics but someone who went through life with pride. That was how I was known, my name, my title. Until one morning, I woke up and I was the butterfly. Still admired for her colorful features, but so fragile, that she could be crushed into nothingness, with no effort at all.

I still remember the day I lost it all. Moment by moment. It was night. The nights were the worst. Darkness covered the city like a blanket. We could hear gunshots, each time wondering who the unlucky victim was. I would tap my foot on a metal crate, humming, trying to forget the dreadful noise. I could hear crying, from people on the streets. I decided to take a short walk when I saw something, something that I will never forget; my mother.

There she was. Draped over the ground, bleeding from the stomach. I instantly fell to the ground, my eyes filled with tears.

“Mummy, what did I do to deserve this?” I cried. In that moment, the last words my mother muttered will stay with me forever. “My sweet butterfly, you will always be a peacock in my eyes.”

That night, I lost it all. My family. My colors. Myself. I was a mess. But I realized, that I  wasn’t the mess, I was simply a person in a messy world. After going through a storm, I learned to shine through it, and even though the rest of the world saw me as a fragile butterfly, I knew the only person that mattered, once saw me as a peacock.

By Carolina Prodromou

© Copyright 2019 carolina prodromou. All rights reserved.

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