The Fly of the Butterfly (English)

Chapter 12

It must have been an hour after Aeryne settled into bed to sleep, at first she hadn't been able to fall asleep and was turning slowly on the mattress, first looking at the wall, then at the window next to the desk and at the end looking at the ceiling where she decided to close her eyes and let the sound of raindrops that had been unleashed within minutes of settling into bed drifted her to sleep.

Within her dream she remembered that day in detail, the spring weather that moved her hair from her face, after finding that awful scene she returned home with her mother, crying, feeling that her heart exploded with pain. While the police arrived at the scene, the pair of women sat down to wait for them on the sofa that faced the unlit fireplace while the little girl disconsolately cried, the mother and now widow gazed with lost eyes at the reflection of the light coming from the kitchen as she ran her hand through her daughter's hair and hummed a song to calm her down.

In her dreams she remembered that lullaby her mother used to sing her to sleep, sitting on the bed next to her, comforting her daughter, ensuring that all her problems would disappear when she closed her eyes. She settled on the bed when the weight of a body rested next to her, if it was Dylan to bother her, she would kick him in the balls with her good leg, she rubbed her hands over her eyes, focusing her eyes on her companion.

A figure sitting, combing her hair while she hummed that old lullaby song was none other than her mother, the one she thought was dead, or far away at leats. The one who disappointed her so many times, that was her mother. The woman  in front of her eyes. For a second she thought it was a dream, a hallucination due to the drugs she had taken to relieve the pain, but it was too clear not to be real.

The woman with angular features like the late Hope Johnson smiled at her, her eyes denoting dark depth, not those magnetic depths that took you to another place, but those that made you think of how cold and lonely nothingness is.

Her voice resounded for the first time after 9 years without perceiving it. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized one thing, as much as she longed for that moment with all her being, she didn't need it, she was fine without her.

-What are you doing here? Nobody knew where you were, I thought you had...-

-What? that I had died? Well the feeling is mutual, I also thought that you had died days ago, I would have preferred you to do it that way- she couldn't understand the words that came out of her mother's mouth, she hadn't noticed the slight trace of threat that appeared in that woman's voice every time she referred to her, nor to the knife that woman held in her left hand, ready to attack.

-Where have you been all this time? So many things have happened since you left, and Hope, for God's sake there is a girl who is very similar to you, come on we have to tell Detective Williams, he may have an image so you can see it so you can compare it...- instinctively the woman took the hand to Aeryne's wound, the brunette stifled a cry of pain into her pillows.

-You will not go anywhere my dear daughter- the sarcasm was evident in her voice, she pressed again forcing the tears out of her daughter's eyes, it hurt her more that her mother was the one who was uttering that unbearable pain- you will not say anything You won't make a noise and do you know why? - The brunette shook her head while her mother's left hand, with the knife very close to her face, covered her mouth without letting her speak. - I know you want to know what  happened to your idiot father that day, how he ended up on top of that tree by the waterfall with a rope around his neck and the only way for that to happen is if you keep quiet, otherwise you'll never know why the bastard died- she waves her hand contemptuously as if minimizing the fact.

A mixture of anger and hate grew in the girl's chest, she did not recognize the person she once called mother, she could only see an shallow container without empathy for the pain of others.