His Collection

SIXTEEN

Lance found us, and I couldn't tell how long he had been standing over me which made me realize I have been getting distracted since leaving the Bad Box. I couldn't help it, my eyes needed new things to capture, they were tired of the darkness from the shed. My mind had been put somewhere else, with other memories, and pictures, that I forgot to be aware of my surroundings.

"Did not mean to scare you," Lance said while bending over with a straw hat in his hand. His hair dripped over a few drops of water on my shoulder, flinching, I moved away. "I still do, don't I?"

Trying to shoo away the fear, I smiled and quietly told him how I was sure I would get back to normal soon, "...I'm still getting used to everything."

He gave a quick smile, then relaxed his jaw while dropping the bag on his shoulder. Gently he set the hat on my head, and I lifted my head to see his cheeks splashed with the faintest splash of pink.

"Looks good on you," he said while smiling. The butterflies that surrounded me, they now drifted to him, and they seemed to love him; they flew above his hair, practically giving themselves up as his crown. What a sad, little prince.

My eyes had reflected a great amount of light that they shimmered, and he seemed to be captivated by them that he didn't notice how close his body had wandered. He reached over to touch me, but pulled back, saying, "I know you're trying to forgive me fully."

"I said I did," I stated, but he scoffed a little smile while looking away.

Lance relaxed, and sat down on the grass with his arms resting in front of him. Looking up to the winged creatures, he softly said, "Yes, but your body hasn't."

Finally, he faced me, and tilted his head, making his face mesmerize me all over again. I wanted to trace the fractured pigmentation across his skin, every detail, and examine each blotch that created that extraordinary pattern on his skin. I had always liked things far from the regular.

Which is why I am here. For not being normal to begin with.

My thought spread to how if I had just been the daughter my mom wanted; going to school, hunting on the weekends, hanging with respected feather-stuffed youths from the community, then maybe I would never have found my way into this psychotic experience.

He looks over to Marina's sleeping form then adds how he didn't ever force himself onto her, which confused him why he had done it to me.

"Something took over, and I don't know it if was because we were wrestling and battling it out that it excited me to the point of triggering an arousal, or because I really did want you for your body since the begining."

I ask which reason did he want it to be, and he responded, "Well, if I say the first, then it'll make me a raving lunatic who loves overpowering others. If I say the second, then it makes me just a simple idiotic man with no control of my penis, right?"

Impressed, I raised my brows, but kept my face low to my knees as I huddled myself together. He definitely was smart, and now I could also see, a deep thinker, also.

"Why do you think I did it," he asked as I froze to the question. I didn't think he'd ask me that. To even be talking openly to the person who voilated me about the crime, it was unthinkable, but he seemed casual to the bone about whatever he decided to have slide out that mouth of his.

Because you're a monster. You're a monster, a bad person, you're evil...and you don't even know it, because you need professional help.

I couldn't help but have my eyes water. Blinking away the tears, he apologizes for asking, and states that it was better I didn't answer. I slide my hands up to my knees where my lips were, and then swallow any trace of fear.

"But can I ask you to promise me something?" He quietly askes, making his tone husky, and rough. "When you want me to leave you alone, I will, but promise to never run off. I don't want you getting hurt."

By the traps, and wolves, right? Or should I add you to the list as well?

He waited for my answer, and it didn't take much before I promised I wouldn't escape. Of course he couldn't possibly believe me, not entirely anyway. With the way they lived, I doubt there weren't any actual ways to leave each other alone. He probably means leaving me alone, but still keeping his eyes on me from a distance.

A single butterfly landed on my fingers, and folded its wings back before fully expanding them over my lips. Without thinking, I blurted out, "They remind me of you."

"Calling me beautiful now?" He said it with a tint of charm and sarcasm, making me lower my lids, and roll my eyes to him, having my glare answer for me.

You're funny, too. Gee, great.

"No one ever thought I was," he added, then breathed in the light breeze. "Because of my skin, of course. They used to call me Shit Stains, saying I was born under a tree near a flock or something."

I hadn't meant to change the subject, but felt having him talk about this was better than talking about what he had done to me.

Thinking to myself about what he must had gone through being born with Vitiligo, especially in an area where there were little to no cases of it, and where the people were not the most understanding when it came to the unusual, well, life must had been tough. Feeling sorry for Lance wasn't what I was doing, no, I was feeling sorry for the child he was, and what that kid had to go through. This Lance was grown, and had now to decide what he would do with his life; clearly, he didn't decide to do good.

"Vitiligo isn't reason enough to treat a person bad. I'm sorry you went through the taunting," I honestly replied. This had to help me in the end, right, having empathy with him would help my cause.

"Smart girl," he smiled to the fact that I even knew what his skin condition was called. "I don't blame them for not knowing, it's not their fault they are too lazy to search it up, but having my mother being what she was, well it didn't help."

"What was she?"

"Wiccan, nothing bad, but the town saw it as an evil they wanted to wipe away."

My lips began to press together till they turned bright pink. I was getting mad. The thought of people bullying others for something without even reading on the subject made my blood boil. It helped to set my soul on fire, and bring the old me back a bit; the fighter in me.

"So they attacked you." I stated without even looking at him.

"Couldn't reach my mother, she was always home. I went to school in town," Lance gave a sigh, then changed the subject by saying that he hadn't spoken about any of this in a while. Marina knew a bit, but he mentioned she wasn't much to converse with.

"You're something special, I knew it the second you ran towards me," he finished, then stood up, extending his hand for me to hold.

As one butterfly left me, a new one named Lance smiled down at me with dimples finally making a dazzling appearence. His hair had dried, and moved with the wind.

Why every time that I see you smile can I easily believe you're actually a good boy?