Today marks a two year anniversary from that night. Since then I have been staying with various foster families. I managed to acquire a job at the local bookstore, it's a humble little store which allows me a salvation from the stress of the erratic world I was thrown into. Admittedly, the salary isn't much but it's the best I can do with my lack of schooling.
Speaking of education, I have reached the last year of my school, I was only held back one year despite my past. I have studied furiously these past years and I want to get into psychology. I'm thinking about becoming a psychologist for families like ours. I want to help these people.
Going to school I hadn't planned on getting to know the students. I usually kept to myself. But apparently this only intrigues people as soon I found myself flocked by a bunch of kindhearted, understanding friends who let me stay with them and eat their food, they don't even want me to pay them back. I will of course, but in the meantime I am grateful. I really wish you and mum could meet these people that mean so much to me, but I guess that's why I'm writing this, to let go.
After I left you, the day you died, I left an anonymous call to the police on your phone pretending to be a neighbor or something. Complaining that I heard a gun shot but was too freaked to take a look. They came and found you and organized your funeral a few weeks later. Your funeral was simple, a few people showed, not many really but you weren't very popular anyway.
No one recognized me, or even knew I existed so I stood in the background and just watched. I didn't feel like explaining myself.
You were buried with Mum by the way, I hope that's alright, we have accumulated a family plot. Dad, I won't ever forget about you but I'm going to move on now, in the future I will have a good job and a family who I will treat very kindly. No matter what, I won't make the same mistakes you did, I promise.
Love,
The Butterfly Who Was Set Free.
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The end!
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To Free A Broken Butterfly
Fiksi RemajaI am like a butterfly in a jar, wounded and captured. To you I am a meaningless punching bag, to the rest of the world I died along time ago with my mother. Well that's what the media says anyway. I no longer exist. So why not just end my suffering...
