Wings of a Butterfly

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is inspired by alot of stories that I have been reading here on Booksie. Stories related to child abuse.

It's become a common factor in today's world. People are speaking up but still little is being done about it. Most children still suffer, unnoticed. This story in a way is dedicated to them.

Submitted: August 27, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 27, 2010



'Twinkle, twinkle little star

How I wonder what you are

Up above the world so high

Like a diamond in the sky.'

I heard her sing along with her class. She had her cute, angelic smile on her face. Her dark brown hair was draped over her face, concealing the little gash on her cheek. I knew it was from last night. I had heard him go into her room. I had heard her tiny sobs all through the night.

And yet, I had been powerless to do anything. I didn’t save her. I didn’t tell him to leave my little sister alone. I didn’t keep the promise I had made my mother long ago.

Why? Why was I so afraid of him? Why I could not take a stand against him? Why did he frighten me so much that I trembled with his mere voice booming in my ears? Why my heart beat wildly when he so much as touched my hand?

My mother had taught me never to be afraid of anything. And I wasn’t, until two years ago, when he became different.

My mother had said to me that all our worries would be gone now. We would have a nice house, all of the bills would be paid, the grass of our lawn would always be green, and I could finally go to college. And most important of all, I would have another daddy.

But that was five years ago, and mum didn’t know that she was sick. She didn’t know she had so little time to live.

I was happy to see my mum in that flowing white dress. I was the maid of honor, I had looked beautiful too.

But only a year later, everything changed. That one vomit blew everything apart. Mum was in the kitchen fixing us breakfast when all of a sudden, she doubled over and threw up. What really shocked us was the red liquid mixed with the onion salad she had eaten last night. Drew, her second husband, rushed her to the hospital. And when the reports came out, none of us were able to say anything to each other.

Mum had cancer; she was in her last stages. It was too late for any treatment. She got so much sick after that. And only six weeks later, she passed away. With her last breaths, she made me promise to take care of Lizzie, to protect her.

Drew began to drink heavily. I started to skip school. Lizzie was only two years old. And slowly what family had come together with one simple "I do" started to fall apart. Drew and I became strangers to each other. We began to live like we hardly knew each other. I lost another Dad.

Lizzie was four years old when it first happened. Drew came home drunk one late night. I didn’t know he would be so high. I let Lizzie sleep alone in her room, next to Drew’s.

I heard him go into her room and close the door. All I could hear was his muffled voice through the door. He came out fifteen minutes later.

I had no idea what I would see when I would walk in through Lizzie’s door. I had not imagined my sister would ever have to go through this. She was such a little soul.

She was my angel, my butterfly, my twinkling star from the sky. She was sent from heaven.

But he made her dirty. He made her sinful. He made her little cute hands do unexplainable things. But she was only a little child.

At three in the morning, I had called my neighbor and my unconscious sister was rushed to the hospital. The blood on her nightgown freaked me out. I didn’t know if I would ever get her back.

But she survived. I wished she hadn’t.

Drew was sent to jail to serve nine months. He spent a year in a rehabilitation centre. Lizzie and I were sent to a foster home.

But when he came out, the court gave him permission to have us live with him again. And he took his revenge that very first night we spent at his house. But it wasn’t Lizzie this time. He came for me.

At most nights now when I cannot sleep, I can hear his threatening, cruel voice in my ears. I can hear his grunts, his moans that send chills down my body. I can feel him above me.

But I never opened my mouth again after that night. I never told anyone. I became too afraid!

It has been two years since then. One time it’s me, the next it’s Lizzie. We have more marks and bruises on our bodies than anyone playing polo.

And now as I stood outside Lizzie’s classroom, watching her through the glass door, I wished, I wished God would either kill us both, or take Drew away. I wished things were different. I wished mum was still alive. I wished my own father hadn’t left us. I wished Lizzie hadn’t survived that night. I wished I hadn’t born.

The bell rang, school was over. Her classroom door opened and she came out tagging behind the line of her class fellows. Her teacher followed.

Lizzie looked up at me. Her eyes were a mix of emotions. It was Friday, Drew would be home early. He had already taken her last night, so tonight it would be me.

My little sister looked up at me with fear in her eyes.

Damn it! She was afraid for me.

Tears sting at the corner of my eyes. I looked away from her, not daring to meet her eyes.

Her teacher gave me a smile and nodded, indicating that I follow her to her office.

‘She is improving’ she said as we settled in her office.

‘I’m glad’ I choked out.

‘But she’s still day dreaming a lot. She seems lost. Is something bothering her? Are there any problems at home?’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my six year old sister throw her hair on her face, hiding her gash further.

‘No! Everything’s perfectly fine.’ I tried to sound convincing.

Her teacher stared at me a good few seconds before she smiled.

‘Well, if there is ever anything, Lydia, I’d like you to tell me.’ She said.

‘Of course, I will’ I smiled back.

I took Lizzie home. I made us lunch and we sat eating it quietly.

‘When is your school ending, Lydia?’ Lizzie asked.

‘Uh, just one more semester left Liz.’ I answered. ‘Are you finished?’

I picked up our dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Drew hates mess.

‘Will you go to college then?’

I wanted to. I so damn wanted to get away from this horrible place.

‘No Lizzie. I have to help daddy with his work.’ The word "daddy" tasted sour in my mouth.

‘What if he sends you away?’

‘He needs me Lizzie.’

When Lizzie isn’t enough to satisfy him, he needs a seventeen year old girl’s body.

He needs me twice every week.

‘I hope he lets you go to college.’ Lizzie said in a small voice.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Tears flew down my eyes like violent streams. My breaths became shallow and I choked.

My six year old little sister cared enough for me to get away. She cared!

And I, seventeen year old, could do nothing to save her from him. How pathetic was I? Was I human?

I ran out of the kitchen and up to my room. There was no way that I could meet her gaze after that. There was no way I could face her after everything I had let Drew do to her. I was her sister. I was older. I should have been able to do something, anything. I should have saved her the very first night he laid his hands on her. Or at least it shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been me. Every time! Every single time, it should’ve been me, not Lizzie beneath him.

I heard the door bang shut, as I lay sprawled on my bed, draining tears of guilt. Drew was home. That son of a-


My first instinct was to lock my door. But Lizzie was down there. So I hastily made my way down to him, to my father.

‘I paid the bills.’ I said as I reached the last step of the stairs. He was standing in the living room, his back turned towards me.

He didn’t say anything then, but made his way towards the couch and sat next to Lizzie. My breath quickened as he put his arm around her small shoulders. Lizzie trembled under him.

‘Do you want me to heat up the lunch? You’re earlier than usual. I didn’t know you would be.’ I asked. Anything to get him talking and distract him from my sister!

‘No, it’s fine. Come over here and sit at my feet.’ He said. His voice was calm, which only scared me more. His calm was sometimes worse than his anger. But I did as I was told.

As I sat in front of him on the floor, he circled his legs around me and put his feet between my legs. I did not want to think what might follow.

‘Don’t you just love family time?’ he said, chuckling.

I wanted to hit him.

‘Ah, if only your mother was here.’

Why do you care?

‘My boss is sending me to Texas. You kids want to come?’

We didn’t have a choice. Who would amuse him at nights?

‘I have a few tests.’ I managed through my gritted teeth.

‘Really? That is too bad. Perhaps Lizzie alone could come. Won’t you like it Lizzie?’

Lizzie could not speak. Oh my poor sister!

‘Why can’t she stay here with me? Her teacher is already complaining about her. I need to help her with school.’

I prayed he would let her stay.

‘But wouldn’t Lizzie like Texas more than boring school work?’ he said, obviously enjoying my fright.

Say you want to stay, Lizzie. Please say you want to stay. Don’t go with him.

‘What would you like, Daddy?’ Lizzie’s frightened voice was barely above a whisper.

‘Whatever you want, baby?’

‘Can I stay?’ she whispered.

Drew became quiet. He didn’t speak. He became still.

Oh no. Oh no, please no! Please! Damn it, no!

The next thing that happened should have made me unconscious right away. His foot had connected straight to my ribs and I doubled over, crying in pain. His legs uncurled from my waist and he walked away. I heard Lizzie scream.

From my watery eyes I saw Drew dragging Lizzie from her arm upstairs. I was too much in pain to move, I could not go after them. God had been cruel to let me watch my sister being dragged to hell, because in the next second, I became unconscious.

When I woke up, everything was quiet. I was on the living room floor, lying on my stomach. I tried to get up and the first move shot pangs of pain up through my stomach. Groaning, I pushed myself up from the floor and made for the stairs.

Lizzie wasn’t there. Not in her bedroom, not in Drew’s bedroom, not anywhere in the house.

No, Drew couldn’t have taken her with him. It couldn’t be. He’d never done it before. What was different this time? I checked his closet; some of his clothes were gone. I opened his drawer, his passport wasn’t there. I checked my sister’s closet.

No! I screamed.

I ran for the phone and dialed 911.

Ten minutes later, two police cars were parked outside the house. Two policemen sat with me, questioning me and giving orders in their wireless. Three other were searching the house. They had draped an afghan around my shoulders, and I sat shaking horribly, crying. One of them put an arm around my shoulders in an effort to comfort me.

‘Don’t worry, kid. He won’t get far.’ He tried to calm me.

But how could I calm? My sister was out there somewhere with that monster. I had no idea what he had done to her. I didn’t know what he could still do to her. I couldn’t imagine. I couldn’t think.

Why is it always her? Why does he always have to take it out on her? Why is it never me? Why am I always spared?

As more minutes passed, my anxiety grew. I cried more and refused to eat anything they offered me, refused any help that was directed towards me. All I wanted from them was to help my sister. Save her when her own sister couldn’t.

I could never forgive myself. Never!

If something happened to her, I’d die! I would not survive. I would not be able to bear. It would be my fault, all my own. I had remained quiet. I had let us suffer. Why did I?

It was night time when the policeman’s cell phone rang. He went to the porch to talk to whoever had called. I squinted, trying to see his expressions. He talked for five minutes than came back in.

‘You should come with me, kid.’

His voice held no emotion. His face was expressionless. I could not fathom.

‘Have they found her?’ I asked.

‘Come on. We need to go.’

He did not answer. He did not say anything. That scared me.

Oh God! Please, let her be ok. Please!

We sat in his mobile and he reversed the car from the driveway and pulled on to the road. It puzzled me when he stopped his car only two blocks away, near a deserted, over grown playground.

I got out. There were other police cars there, shining their red and blue lights. Policemen and women were standing here and there, with solemn faces. There were two ambulances parked beside the cars with paramedics standing, waiting for something, talking to the police officers.

One policewoman came towards me.

‘Lydia?’ she asked.

I could not answer. The officer who had brought me here nodded.

‘We would like you to identify someone for us, please?’


I walked tiny steps as she led the way. I trembled all over and my mind went blank. She went and stood near the bushes. Turning around she looked at me solemnly.

‘We found a body behind the bushes here. Will you identify for us?’ she asked.

Before the next breath escaped my lips, tears fell from my eyes. It was over, all of it. I had failed. I had failed to protect her. I had failed to keep my promise.

As if in a trance, I made my way towards the bushes. I already knew who I would find there. I could already tell them, identify for them who it was. I circled around the bushes, and stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the corpse. Torch lights were shone above the corpse’s body by the policemen. The eyes were open in shock, there was blood and marks on the chest, as if stabbed a couple of times. I almost gagged.

But I could not take my eyes away from the body. I could not look away. I was transfixed.

‘Lydia? Do you recognize who that is?’ the policewoman asked, bringing me out of my trance.

‘Drew’ I whispered.

A hand came and wrapped around my shoulder. It led me away from him. It led me away from Drew. But I stared. As long as he was in my sight, I stared.

They made me sit in the back seat of a police mobile. I was in shock. I could not utter a word, could not even move.

Minutes passed as I sat there, trying to come out of the shock, trying to regain my sanity. And at last when I did so, my head jerked up suddenly as I remembered her.

‘Where is she? Where’s Lizzie?’ I asked, stepping out of the car.

The officer smiled and pointed towards the ambulance still parked beside the cars. The other one had gone away with Drew’s body in it.

Unsteadily I made my way towards the ambulance. Its back doors were opened. As I neared it, I saw a tiny figure wrapped in blankets, its head resting on the paramedic’s shoulder. As it saw me, as it recognized me, its head jerked up.

‘Oh Lizzie!’

That little angel flew out from the paramedic’s arms and ran towards me. I dropped down on the ground and caught her in my arms as she flung herself at me.

‘Oh baby!’

I held her tight, vowing myself to never let her go away again, vowing that I would never lose my sister again. I would never let her get hurt. I would never let any harm come to her.

‘Lydia!’ She squealed in my arms as we both laughed with joy, with tears coming out of our eyes.

I held her in my arms for so long. So long!

An officer came and stood beside us, smiling.

I looked at him and Lizzie pulled away from me. But I held onto her hand.

‘I’m glad she’s alright.’ He said.

I smiled widely at him.

‘But how- how did Drew…?’ I started to ask.

‘Your sister stabbed him, repeatedly.’

I stared at him in shock. And then I grew scared. My little girl killed him?

‘Would you take her away?’ I choked.

‘No. That was self defense.’ He said, still smiling.

I breathed out in relief. And then without thinking, I hugged the officer.

‘Thank you’ I whispered as I pulled away.

‘Your sister will undergo therapy, though.’ He added. ‘She’s only a kid.’

All I could do was nod. I was too happy to say anything. It was over, all of it.

As the officer left us, I turned to my sister.

She looked up at me with her angelic face and smiled.

I laughed and picked her up in my arms as she squealed in delight.

‘We’re finally free.’ I whispered to her as I hugged my sister.


A/N: I know some people might not approve of the way the girls are freed from their psychotic step father at the end of the story, because it brings out more negativity than puts a positive impact on the reader's mind. So, here I would like to justify my character Lizzie. If you think that a six year old child is incapable of commiting such brutality than do keep in mind what the child has been going through since at the age of four. She has not just been subjected to physical but also mental torture nearly everyday. Different children respond differently to such abuse. Some become like their abusers because they need revenge on somebody and think that they need to look strong so that no one would dare to harm them in the future. Some never dare to reveal this in fear of the abusers and what the world might think of them. And some gain the courage to react on instict to save themselves, and that is what Lizzie did. The reader should keep in mind that Lizzie reacted in self defense, so she must be facing some sort of abuse at the time. In this case, Lizzie is purely innocent and has not become psychotic like her father. I hope you understand better now. :)

© Copyright 2020 Uchay. All rights reserved.

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