Chapter Text
"... Was I sleeping" Inquire at its miracle. Your mind was too busy driving your vision back to normal, only to have a view of the blue sky instead of gray. You sit up on the grass, that was dancing as if instructed by the wind, you were on.
"Yes, for a little while," your mama answered. Wasn't she supposed to be a goner? The familiar, soft brown eyes did not look like she was a phantom. Somehow.. Her eyes were brighter than usual, but it could be because she enjoyed her time without.. Hold on.. You looked over to see, and what you were going to say went to the other way. Your papa, who was nothing but a coward who lashes at mama over and over to the point where she could not take in anymore, was there standing on the other side. Wouldn't their relentless pursuit towards yelling and masking woke you up a while ago? It could only mean something happened, perhaps. But somehow, your silence didn't allow you to be foolish enough to think it's good. It reminded you that no matter what. Reality, for you, won't have a good ending. Like you said, you'll only tumble down, because it's not like a fairy tale. It wasn't at all, and because of that, you just can't help but.. How do you say. Act strange towards other people? You remembered about your friends telling you about it, you didn't care much if they thought so.
"... I was dreaming.." You broke your silence, thinking it was the best time to realize.
"Was it a good dream?" Papa asked, almost interested that it could explain why your supposed nap extended.
"... I don't know." You said aloud, perplexed. Your attention looked forward to the small, golden winged creature, flapping, "... Butterfly," you mumbled, speaking of its presence. It didn't fly away out of business or fear, which humored.
"It's been there for a little while now," papa interrupted. Was he saying that the butterfly was standing there for more than a minute? It's surprising, but you don't know how you can react. "I wonder where it came from," your questioning would've been similar too. You hummed in thought. Maybe it's useless to overanalyze about the butterfly and instead enjoy its company, "... It's cute," you complimented, referring to it.
Your fear and confusion distracts you, though. What happened? Why were you back here? Did your dream warned you after satisfying your crimson desires? Didn't you took your own blood? There has to be reasoning for this, you wouldn't care what reason it would be—
Just as long as there is, like..
How you want reasons why your mama..
"Maybe we should go home now, it's getting late," your mama said, no sound of tiredness was blown, apparently. The music of sorrow did not played in her mind, you assumed, but it's frightening enough that you could be blind to it. After all, you actually didn't want that to happen and you're not foolish, unlike anyone. Your papa agrees with mama and it was unlikely, but to keep fair, you didn't argue either and followed your parents when they waited for you.
...
Where's the red book?
You'll probably find it in your room, imaging it would be under your bed.
Still.
Was it all a dream? Were the others--
...
Why would you care about them right now? You laughed, without a heart, softly.