The Butterfly Thieves

Chapter Two

It felt like I was swimming in a black pool of nothingness. I couldn't figure out where I was, I was just floating in breathable water, like a fetus in a mother's womb. I knew I had to be dreaming, but it didn't feel like that. I looked above me, seeing someone reaching out for me. I couldn't make out their face, but they were reaching out for me. As I felt I was about to float away, as I was about to drown to the bottom of the ocean, a hand grabbed me and pulled me into the colorful world of reality.

My head still felt like it was swimming, but I could see I was in a bedroom, on a bed laying down, not able to move. "Hey, it's okay," a voice said. I couldn't see him, but I knew it was the man from before, the one that gave me the needle, the one that made me pass out. My vision was starting to sharpen, but I still felt like I was lost, like I was still in the black pool of the nothing.

The man stood over me, his face in front of mine. I tried to scream, but I struggled to move my body. I was so heavy, yet I still felt like I was floating. I tried to open my mouth, but no words would escape my lips.

He just shook his head, "Don't speak, I gave you a relaxer. You can't speak, and your muscles won't work right now."

He placed the bowl on the table next to the bed. Air barely escaped my lips once again. He put up a hand. "Again, I would just stop, please don't over do it. I know what questions you're going to ask, and I will answer them. Don't worry, this isn't my first rodeo," he laughed, as if it were some old joke.

"You . . ."

He just nodded despite not being able to really speak. "I know, I know, I'm getting to all of that, I promise," he smiled. "First, water. You need some. I brought a straw too." He placed the reusable glass in the water bottle and placing it just inches from my mouth. I couldn't help but take big gulps, welcoming the water rushing into my veins, giving me life again. "Easy, easy, not so fast, you'll get sick." He took away the bottle.

I started at him. He gave me the bottle again, and I took big sips again, letting it hit my stomach hard. It did hurt, but I couldn't react to it. I was still too numb in that sense. When I stopped, he took it away. "Dizzzzzzy," I managed to get out.

"I know, that's why I didn't want you to take big sips like that."

Words finally escaped me, barely, "I . . . don't . . .like. . .you."

He just smiled. "It's funny, this stuff knocks out people, but it's not doing that with you, is it? It's okay, and I've had these patients before. And it's okay, and you don't have to like me. I suppose you are wondering a lot of things."

He grabbed the bowl from the table and swirled it around again.

"Yessssss," I moaned. "I want-"

"Milly, you can stop, I can answer your questions," he paused, sighed, "Who are you? . . .Where am I? . . . What am I doing here? Do you like the name Milly, or Melissa?"

I just stared at him. Despite being numb, I could feel a cold chill crawling down to the end of my spine, thinking of how much he must have known about me.

He paused for a second. I tried to talk, but nothing came out. He just went on, "Anyways . . .Those are always the main three questions everyone asks. It's genuinely okay and understandable. But I can do this bit with my eyes closed."

"But . . .I . ." I gave up on speaking, it was just making me feel dizzy and like I was even more lost.

He looked to the floor for a second, looking lost in his own thoughts. "My name is Dr. Thomas Lyon. You are in my home, and you're safe here, I promise. And you are my butterfly. That's why you're here."