Broken Butterfly

People say that there’s only so much you can take before you break. Thaila Papillon would tell you otherwise. She’d tell you there’s a million ways the body can bend and crack and break, a million times it can take it. Broken was a state of mind and, unfortunately, one the tiny blonde had grown too used to over the years. Was that normal? To say you were so used to being broken you didn’t know any other way? Both physically and mentally, Thaila had been dealing with torment for as long as she could remember, but she didn’t ever expect it would go this far. She never thought it’d be him.  Another day, another disaster. Another reason for her big brother to get mad and take it out on her. Yes, Thaila had always been broken, but today was the day she couldn’t take anymore. The words rung endlessly in her head as her eyes carefully scanned the darkness. She knew it had been a long time since Dane left her alone in the basement of their apartment, but her lack of a clock meant she had no idea quite how long was long. It wasn’t like she’d know when he’d be back. Even if she did have one, going out and leaving her alone for days on end was normal now. Her eyes finally landed on the knife still on the table across the room, her blood falling off the end in drops and pooling at the edge. It wouldn’t be long before that pool started to make its way to the floor.  She didn’t know what he’d done to her but every part of her body was on fire, it was tired. She was tired. She would take every cut and every punch, but it was those words…  It took all that she had to move. To lift her body off the floor. Her feet moved so gracefully despite how heavy she felt. Gliding silently towards the bed, she grabbed an old rucksack from underneath. She still ran her fingers over the blue sequins every time she looked at it and remembered the day she first saw it, adamant it was a ‘Frozen’ backpack and perfect for the nine year old to take to school. It was the first time she went to school decked out in Goodwills finest and actually felt pretty or cool.  Now eighteen, she still held onto the memory like she held onto the backpack.  She took a deep breath and moved to grab herself some clothes, though she didn’t have many, pulling on a pair of black leggings and a white button-down shirt that she was sure at one point belonged to her Dad, but Dane gave it to her when most of the stuff she owned stopped fitting. Everything else went into the bag. The two shirts that were actually hers, the old beat up bear she’d had her entire life, a hair brush and the two pictures she had of her family. It was only once those things were safely packed away that she moved to pull up the floor board, taking out the envelope of cash she’d taken after her Dad died. She had no idea how much was in there, but she also had no idea how much things cost, so it was irrelevant. She just knew it was something and she would need it if she was going to do this.  Heading for the door, she stuffed the envelope into the bottom of the bag and zipped it, throwing it haphazardly over her shoulder as her hand wrapped around the handle, pushing and pulling and rattling it about with all her might like the deadlocks she knew were on the other side might have just been forgotten about this once. It was no use. She couldn’t be stuck there. She refused. If she couldn’t get out of the door, then the only other option was the hatch that led to the back yard. She pushed things in the way to climb her way up, her palm beating senselessly at the wooden doors above her, turning her head to avoid the dirt and debris that fell down onto her. It wasn’t until she finally smelt the fresh air that fear set in. She hadn’t left this house since the day they arrived there six years ago, she hadn’t left the basement in five, not since the day Dane found the old laundry shoot that would take his little sister down and ‘protect her’ from the world. The fear was overwhelming but something else came to break her free from it.  Rain. The gentle cold drops gently fell onto her face and pulled her out like a gentle guiding hand. She’d always loved the rain, listening to it thrash about in the wind was sometimes the only relief she had from the darkness. From the pain. It came now as a promise. Promising Thaila that this was the right thing to do, that she would be safe. Her hands reached out to grasp the wooden frame and used it to hoist herself out, her body landing with a thud on the ground. It was dark outside but the darkness was nothing compared to what it had been in that basement, it was almost overwhelmingly bright.  Despite wanting to stop for a moment, take it in, embrace it, but she couldn’t. There was no time. So as soon as she was out and on her feet, she ran.  This wasn’t freedom. Not yet. She knew it. She knew that if he found her it wouldn’t go back to the way it was before, it’d be worse. So, despite the fact the rain soaking through her clothes made them seem heavier than her slight frame, she kept going. She didn’t care how she looked. The occasional person she passed looked at her like she might just have been crazy, but she didn’t pay any mind. She knew. It was obvious that a young girl, dripping wet and running in the rain, would cause such a reaction. At least she hadn’t started to cry yet. She didn’t want anyone else to see her cry.  It wasn’t clear how far she’d run but the ache of her legs helped the hope it was far. She hadn’t planned on stopping but the sign outside a school she’d never seen before offered a moment of rest she couldn’t pass up. It wasn’t until she heard the voice behind her that she regretted it. “Shoes?” Her head spun quickly to see the guy standing behind her. The bemused smile on her face was far from the expression she’d expected to see behind her. The voice hadn’t belonged to Dane and deep down she knew that but the fear told her otherwise. This boy was a relief. His long hair stuck to his face helplessly in the rain despite the umbrella he held above his head and he had an eyebrow quirked as he motioned down to her bare feet. “You’re not wearing shoes… I don’t want to tell anyone how to live their life but it feels like an oversight in this weather.” The hint of a laugh in his voice made the other voices quiet for a moment and she too looked down. She simply stated “Don’t have any….” before looking back up at him. But as she started to turn her body towards him, it became clear that the shoes weren’t a problem.  He didn’t have to say a word this time. Her eyes followed his to her now soaked shirt, the red tainted with streams of red where the blood from the cuts covering her torso soaked through. Whilst he seemed horrified, she was simply embarrassed, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s not bad. Not this time.” Her words of attempted comfort were anything but. He looked around quickly to ensure they were alone.  “Where were you headed? I could give you a ride?” His kind gesture fell like a ton of bricks around her when she realized she had no where to go. It was the thick gulp and shake of her head that told him as much.  Maybe it was a bit of a cliche, something you see in movies, but the pull to help her overwhelmed him, so he took a small step closer. “I’m staying at my aunt's but she’s out of town right now. My sister’s never home and I’m sure I can find something that you can use to cover those cuts and…. Maybe some shoes?!” He almost didn’t expect her to take him up on the offer and she looked as surprised as him when she nodded. He pointed in the direction of his car and started to walk. He took her silence as a lead, not saying another word as he started to drive.