[ WP ] When butterflies attack .

Her grave was shallow and unmarked by the willow tree. Butterflies danced in the sun in a field of flowers. Sorrow and neglect were her only companions in life, and they carried on in death. Miranda ’ s soul couldn ’ t rest, so she liked to walk by the brook. 
 
 The water gently babbled across smooth rocks. Light filtered through the trees and danced as the cool wind rustled the branches. Miranda walked the edge of the water, letting the breeze carry her along. The butterflies kept her company as she solemnly paced. Across the river she spied a man. 
 
 He was familiar to her somehow. He cast his fishing rod to the middle of the creek before sitting back down into his chair. His breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes and his eyes were distant and cold. 
 
 Miranda remembered. Butterflies swirled around her before she unleashed a torrent towards the man. He stood up flailing and swatting at them screaming as they surrounded him. They dove into his open mouth suffocating him as he did her. 
 
 The man struggled, and collapsed in front of Miranda. She had stolen his light as he had hers. The man who was suppose to protect her lay dead, his mouth agape with butterflies. The man who tortured her, raped her, killed her, and called her'daughter' was no more. 
 
 Miranda stepped into the sunlight, and faded away. She had found her peace where the butterflies danced. 

