Origins of the Butterfly

From the River to the Girl

It's a bright cheerful day. The clouds are beautiful white and puffy and the blue sky looms over the green grass and tender reads of the softly flowing river. Louisa is now six years old and is allowed outside occasionally by herself due to her oddly mature nature, or at least to anyone outside of her own home it seems odd...

                            ~time skip~

She sits by the beautifull river listening to the lullaby of the flowing water and singing what she believes to be a song of sorrow, "flow now sweet river...a carriage of tears..I hear your heart beating...silent with fear...why do you run?....your time isn't fleeting...is that a hum?...or your voice that's so soft..." her silver hair shines in the mid day sun and her pale skin looks as though it may melt your eyes her hands resting softly on her little blue dress stained from constant use. She stares into the water at her overcast expression as a small tear falls down the side of her cheek. She couldn't hold it in much longer and the river seemed as though it would understand what was going on. She bent slightly over the river as droplets of salty water fell from her face. To louisa it looked like the water would catch her tears sort of how a baby would be nestled snugly in between its mother's loving arms..."Why must mother and father fight so...What has mother done to make father so mad?" She pondered this and many other things whilst by the understanding stream, and refused to go home until the spring sun settled and it was too dark to be out any longer.....