His Collection

THRITY

The trees had started changing colors; though, still was more green than red, one could feel autumn quickly making its way just around the corner. Weeks had gone by, and Lance had brought me more clothes that I could call my own. Alice, too was given items, yet even though they were of the same quality, she wanted something better than mine; personally, I thought her of a brat when she didn't even bother thanking him for the gifts. Clearly she was still pissed about the white dress that she could never have.

In fact, she was furious about a lot of things: I could freely go upstairs, and she could not; the sight of the stairs only freaked her out because she didn't want to go back into the Bad Box. Alice was also not liking the whole idea of Lance now bathing with us. He would look at me far more than the sky itself. Even if I tried to keep my back to him while I bathed, his eyes grazed my skin. I did thank him mentally for being there, though. Alice would have tried and drowned me if we were alone.

But when I was alone with him. Sometimes I couldn't even fall back on my bed without a kiss.

My hands cupped the jar I had collected for him. The moth was dead, and I still believed it could hear me.

"They say it's bad luck to kill anything that nature creates, because it's innocent. Always." I tap the mason jar, then slide it to its side. The powdery moth tips over, and its beady eyes face mine. "So then, is it fair to kill what people create? Half their creations are evil. Bad people making more bad people?"

Do I know bad people? All I know is of Lance, and Alice. Who else do I know?

I had thought about it long ago, yet here I was voicing it out to a dead bug. Cross-legged, I sat in the fields with all the other jars in my lap. There were times I did become sad when I would stare at the butterflies that roamed the area; I didn't want them to all end up on a wall.

Lance's voice called out for me, and I spun my neck to see him coming out the house. Standing up, I used the long skirt to carry the jars. While walking towards him, a deep maroon mark on his cheek began to come into view.

"Alice hit you?" I finally said once reaching his face with my finger tips. "But you didn't put her in the Bad Box."

"Yeah," he gave me half a grin, then sighed. "I am not fond of having any of you in there, so I'll let this slide for now. She's going to stay in her room today."

"Oh."

"I see you got all of them," he pointed to the jars. Taking one, he lifted it up to the sun, and narrowed his eyes. "There's not many of these, I think I should have let this one live." Setting it back in my basket-skirt, he placed a hand over his neck. "I do wish I have another White Admiral, though."

"Like the one on your head?" I bob my chin up, and he smiles.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's by your hair."

He hunches down, and walks over to me. The dark butterfly dipped, drifted, and repeated its motions while exposing its beautiful white stripe and spots. At an angle it was a midnight blue, and glistened like olive oil. I walked towards it and told Lance I could catch it.

The jars clanged and knocked onto one another as I fumbled about to keep up with it. Lance is not far behind; he always preferred o walk and admire everything the bright days had to offer. Yet my mood had crumbled into dust as the butterfly landed, and my hand was resting on the door of the barn. My heart pulled back on my heels, and I almost dropped all the jars.

I can't go in there. I can't even touch it.

Jumping to a hand on my shoulder blade, my lungs spike up causing me to cough sharply.

"Sorry," I said after I had cleared my throat. His eyes hovered over mine while the breeze traveled between us. Time had stopped again, but desperately did I want it to continue. I wanted to get out of there. Tears began to swirl in the corners of my eyes, and his bows arched though his eyes expressed concern.

"Why are you crying?"

"I don't know."

"Hmm," his index finger played with my cheek then trailed up to my ear. "You think I will punish you for going near the barn?"

I nod while wiping my eyes. His hand takes hold of my chin, and sighs a sweet breath into my hair. Though he had talked to me about his mother, he never did tell me just how he had kept her. 

"Alice had told you not to go near it, right?"

Again, I nod, then sink my canine tooth into my bottom lip. Should I mention why? Is it right to say what Alice had told me about his mother? My eyes sink into his as I try to figure out what emotion he was feeling.

"Do you know why?" he calmly asked me.

"Your mom, she is in there," I reply without looking away.

Looking over to the barn. He slightly twists his lips, then relaxes his hand that has been rubbing my chin. Honestly, dead or alive, I did not want to meet his mother. But, part of me did. One special part of me wanted to meet another human being other than the two I have grown attached to without memory of how or when.

"Lance." My voice beckoned for his eyes on me. He the slides them over to signal me he was listening. The bottom lips curled into a short smirk as I asked him if I was in trouble. His eyes showed something smothered in heat, and it made me guess that locking me away from him was the last thing on his mind.

"I wouldn't want you spending a night there," he turned over, then placed a hand to the door and pushed it open. "But, I do think you've been such a good girl that you deserve to meet my mother."

Not what I had in mind.

Chills ran down my skin, and he noticed. I could see he wanted to see how I'd react to whatever was inside the barn. Could it be a test? And what of it if I failed? Swallowing the rest of my nerves, and questions, I follow him in. Tightly I clutch onto my skirt to keep the jars in place. i tell myself to not drop them in shock.

Please, please let me not be afraid.

"You're shaking," he states.

"I'm just a little nervous," I sweetly correct.

As we walk further inside, shards of light shine through the cracks reminding me of the Bad Box. How quickly did that sink in that I stepped back, and Lance turned around to see my eyes tearing in horror. How he could see me in the darkness, I did not know. But he knew I was crying.

"Can you see anything?" He asked me while touching my face.

Shaking, I muttered I could not, then after asking why I was afraid, I replied, "It looks like a bigger Bad Box."

"Oh, no, Blanca," he smoothed away my wet lids, and tucked me into his chest. "This isn't a bad place, I promise."

To be honest, I was surprised I even knew what it felt like being inside the Bad Box. I don't ever recall the day or night I had been in there, but the strange feeling that once, long ago, I was. It terrified me knowing I was punished once before, but relieved that I couldn't fully remember that horrid shed.

"Come on, I'll just show you another day. I don't want you crying anymore today." He led the way back into the light, and before shutting the door, the clouds traveled past the sun, and a ray of light revealed a human cocoon hoisted up on one of the barn's pillars.

..............

Thank you for staying with me this long. It's about to get bumpy, and a tab bit cereal ( serious*)

I am munching on Lucky Charms...

Don't shoot me for making such a terrible pun.