Not All Butterflies Are Free

Not All Butterflies Are Free

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Mar 29, 2016
"He raped me", she said. I repeated with nothing but a waiting look as the words echoed through my head, drowning all the other thoughts that popped up in my head like a raging wind blowing away the clouds. I looked at her as if she was a fragile cup that was wobbling on the edge of the table. The seconds ticking away as if they were minutes, the minutes as if they were hours. The time flew by as I waited for the moment she broke down- the moment the shaky cup would lean to the wrong side, fall down on the floor and transform to a thousand irreparable pieces. Adam and Evangeline. This is the story about their friendship and about their developing love. Adam and Dave. This is the story about family and about shocking disappointments. This is the story about a love-triangle, but not like the ones you're used to know. A triangle of who to trust and who to believe. The story about a son, a father and a caged butterfly.
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I deeply inhale and after a few seconds, exhale. Sooner or later, I'll have to return. Stalling won't help. The call gave me new strengths and lifted me back up on my feet. I can't show him the consequences he made. I have to stay strong. With newfound determination, I walk back to his office. The door is still open, so I step in and close them behind me. I finally see him behind a desk, with his head enveloped in his hands. At the sound of the door, he lifts his gaze up but lowers it back down again. I almost feel sorry for him, but the alarms in my head ring, reminding me not to get tricked. He is the one, who deceived me first. I lift my head up high and loudly start to introduce myself, formally addressing him. "Hello, I am Mia Rose, your new assistant," and extend my hand. He looks at me surprised and his smile turns into a gentle one. I think I see a speck of sadness in his eyes, but my attention is drawn to his hand. "Hello, I'm Mark Adams, a professional photographer. Nice to meet you," and shakes my hand. I notice he addresses me formally as well. His handshake is strong but still gentle. I feel like he doesn't want to let go, but soon does and sits back in his chair.

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