MAWAZAA

Red Butterfly Part 2

The moment she opened the door was the moment that she took steps back as I stormed into her living room, slamming the door behind me. It's at times like this she's a lot more talkative.

"You're upset with me, aren't you?" she asked; her bend index finger over her lips as her hands were close to her mouth. It's always like this, every morning at ten I swing by her house to check on her and end up waiting by her door for four hours until she opens the door. I've asked for a spare key many times but she always rejected the idea and I never knew why and there I stand every time furious with her. Rinse and repeat.

"You fucking bet I am. The hell's the matter with you?"

"I'm sorry."

"I've been calling your phone for half and hour and you never pick up! I give you a phone and you barely even touch it!"

"I'm sorry"

I no longer search for a different response from her. It's always going to be the same and I got used to it and let out a long sigh. This week was different from the others, she's been absent from her house ever since the week of the interview. I found her laying motionless in the middle of Monarch street that night. Nothing but the slight rise of her chest could be better than any reassurance that my star was alive. I never knew why she ended up there but it didn't sit well with me. I was glad to see that she was back home in the same house she's always been in since high school but where was she before?

"What's been going on with you lately? Where have you been?"

She stared at me for what seemed like forever with this look of nothingness. I almost never see expression on her face unless it's needed.

"I went to go see some family."

"You did?"

She nodded.

Family? When did she leave for that? She usually tells me everything- everything except for her family. I don't know what type of people they are; are they kind or are they strict? Do they look like her? Why does she never talk about them? Moreover, why has she been living in this house on her own ever since? These were questions I never bothered to ask because I knew she wouldn't answer them.

"You never told me that you went to go see your family.

"It was private." she spoke quietly while rubbing her arm.
"I see. Well anyways go get dressed. We have to discuss your role with the producers of The Color Red. So dress nice."

I pulled out my phone as she retreated upstairs to her bedroom to get changed. She still had sleep in her eyes. The many countless times I've told her to go to bed early the results of her waking up late never change. There's not a damn thing I could do about it.

She return from the steps wearing a retro red dress that buttoned all the way up to her chin. The dress itself was ankle length almost covering her sandals. I frowned at this, the tight blue T-shirt and blue shorts she was wearing earlier was a lot more revealing than this. I took a hold of her and started to unfasten some of the buttons.

"You can't keep covering yourself from head to toe. Show something that men can look at." I unfasten most of the buttons from her neck and stopped halfway down her chest, exposing some of her cleavage. She wore a black undershirt underneath so it was a lot more safer for her to display without showing too much skin. She has a look of discomfort on her face, I ignored it due to my selfish wants and needs.

"There, that's better. Show some skin a little." She was looking away from me but nodded her head. "You didn't do much with your hair or makeup but that's fine, an all natural look fits this outfit. Now let's go."