MAWAZAA

Red Butterfly.

Before I became her manager, I always found her to be too beautiful for my own liking. To be honest she's always been really weird- her personality anyways. The way she would always stare off into a void of nothingness with the ends of her round lips turned down slightly as she pressed her perfectly sized forehead on the window. The first time I met her I wanted to hate her. Her long kinky hair that fell over her shoulders and down her back; her flawless and even dark skin; shapely eyebrows that always curled up to give her face this shy yet sad expression; or rather more that it was fear. Her big breast that would always be noticed in anything she wore; her small waist and big hips down to her thighs and round ass. I hated all of that about her, I didn't know if I should hate her or the men who would rise in their pants at the sight of her instead of me.

Every outfit that she wore was one colored- on top of the fact that her clothes was the most unfashionable clothes imaginable, but she always made them look so good. And that timid walk of hers- always having her arms wrapped around her chest like she's hiding something. Something about that that gave me a little more comfort in the size of my own breast as small and flat they may be. Her shy timid personality told me all that I needed to know, that she can be ordered around. And that was one thing I had power over her.

However she would always answer me with one sentence, always in that same timid tone through that thick Mandingo accent she's always had since the day I met her. I will admit that I never understood a single word that she said when she spoke in front of me for the first time. But there were no particular drawbacks nor intense interest for me to make fun of her. So there was no reason whatsoever for me to join in on the constant bullying she got from the other girls. I simply just watched her from afar wishing that I was her. There was simply no other reason for becoming friends with her besides the fact that I can order her around but not for me. For herself.

It was a dark night on this day. Not your particular color of black or dark blue; but red. Just an ominous red.

I can hear her humming a peculiar song from the back seat of my car.

Aye yo Aye yo

The red moon will show.

Hundreds of people lying to wake once more.

I looked through the rear view mirror to catch a glimpse of her. The red reflected off of her bright blue eyes. Her eyes were always the center of every gossipers attention, they were a perfect shade of blue that contrasted from her dark skin; yet at the same time they looked bizarrely out of place.

"Sonya, I'm driving close to the wall of a tunnel. It's best that you move your head away from the window." Her singing ceased but I didn't get any sort of response whatsoever. She continued to stare into nothing.

"Sonya!" Her face came to me out of the moonlight as she only turned her head at a ninety degree angle to face me, her big blue eyes staring at me through the rear view mirror. Still with her forehead pressed to the window.

"Did you hear what I told you? Get your head away from the window for a bit."

She moved her head away from the window with slow movements that were almost mechanical and she responded.

"Sorry, Jessie."

"You ought to stop zoning out like that. It can cause some problems."

"Jessie." she said ignoring my suggestion.

"What?"

"The sky is red."

"The skies are always red here."

"...Have they been red anywhere else?"

I scoffed a bit at that. Why would she ask such an absurd question? I fidget with the wheel as it dawned upon me that I don't know the answer. "Have the skies been red somewhere else?" I wondered. well- perhaps in tornado signs or warnings, but surely not like this; Day after day after day the skies at night just a continuous block of solid red.