Killing Butterflies

...

That's when I realized it. The stream was full of blood. I scrambled back in horror.

Without warning I plunged through the Earth. Dirt covered me. It clawed it's way into my open mouth. It sank into my eyes and slithered into my ears. It slipped down my throat, suffocating me. I was being buried alive. I clawed furiously. Then as quickly and unexpected as I had fallen it spat me out on the other side. I coughed up a wad of dirt. I whipped my head around violently. All around me the world stretched across a field until eventually fading into black ahead of me there was an ancient oak tree. It's branches creaked ominously in the wind. My eyes followed the trunk down. Black roses stabbed up from the earth, and there Swabbed by shadows there stood a figure of a girl dressed in black, turned away from me with raven black hair and pale white skin. She was stooped over the roses, her hands flashed through the air, pausing then grabbing at something.

I rose to my feet and slowly took a step towards her. She brought her hands towards her mouth.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I heard a sickening crunching sound.

There was a pause. The world had gone silent as if it held its breath, waiting for her answer. No wind. No crickets. The only thing I could hear was my own heart thundering in my chest.

She turned around slowly. Shadows obscured her face. All I could see was her mouth. Then the corners of her mouth stretched into a wicked smile. Pale white and brilliant against the darkness that framed her face. A single butterfly wing was caught in between her teeth.

Then her answer. Her voice was hauntingly beautiful, but achingly familiar, "Killing butterflies..."