Mary's Bones

TWENTY-FOUR

The little girl with dark brown hair and a brown glow, the same as my skin, was just as I imagined. She pranced around the field, teal blue butterflies circling her, her loose curls bouncing up and down.

I watched her stretch her arms as far as she could, attempting to grab hold of just one, if not all, of the beautiful insects.

"Mommy! Look, I caught one!" she shouted. Her voice bounced off the clouds with an echo.

Down her small, petite frame was a light blue sundress beating off the sun's heat. I felt paralyzed within my bones, to my flesh, to my skin. It crawled at the sight of her.

"Rosemary. . ." I couldn't say anything else but that.

She was so beautiful. I wanted to hold my baby girl in my arms. This couldn't have been real. She was a big girl already. I hadn't even given birth to her yet. The butterfly in her hand stayed put. Awe cluttered my eyes as I watched the swarm gather on different parts of her body.

All the butterflies were there but one.

"Mommy, look! We found her!" Rosemary yelled, pointing.

She darted towards the lone butterfly. It hovered over an area along the grass to my right. From where I was, I could only spot the piece of root that connected to a large willow tree, tunneling underground. What had she meant by we and her?

Before I could retort, darkness loomed above. The sky was tinted with dark gray clouds, as if a storm or a tornado were approaching.

"Mommy, we have to save her." Rosemary frowned. Her eyes were now looking directly into mine. My lips parted, but words failed to come out.

"Mommy! Why aren't you doing anything? We have to help her!" Rosemary's frown deepened. Her voice strained. I could see the gloss forming in her eyes. There was a brief pounding at the back of my skull. I winced and toppled over to my knees.

"Save them, mommy. We need you. I need you," were Rosemary's last words before the butterflies parted.

They flew beside the lone one joining its territorial stance. As they occupied the small space, the branches of the willow tree swayed with the gentle breeze. What was down there? I couldn't help but ask myself. Organisms were known to be one and the same. When something was in need of protection, they guarded it with their life. Whatever it was.

Something underneath the willow tree needed protecting.

I narrowed my eyes at the butterflies. One. . . Two. . . Three. . . Thirteen.

My breath hitched in my throat.

There were thirteen butterflies. As if that weren't odd enough, the bark from the tree began to peel on its own. Strip by strip, it bared itself naked to me. I couldn't remove my eyes from what was being marked into the bark. Finally, everything stopped. And the name that flashed before me sent me flying backward.

My palms merged into the roots of the grass as I scrambled back in a hurry. It couldn't be. Underneath the willow tree. It was her.

"Shayla," a child's voice whispered.

My eyes shot open, and I jolted upwards. There was no longer light, but the dark space of John's and my bedroom. Sweat drenched my skin, deep into the pores. However, that didn't distract me from the sharp pain quenching my insides.

"J-John," I breathed. There was no response except for a soft groan. Oh gosh. This was not what I needed right now. I forgot how hard it was to wake him up. I clenched my teeth together, forcing my screams back down my throat.