Page 55 of Broken Butterfly
“Jules, where’s Elijah?” Ryder asks him.
“We broke up.”
What? Then I remember. Elijah was going to propose today.
“What happened, Julien?” I reach for his hand, concerned for my best friend.
Julien jerks away from my touch as if I threw acid on his skin and ignores me. Instead, he continues talking to Ryder and Fallon. “You guys want to come in for a bit?”
“Nah, man. Thanks though, but we need to head back.”
Jayson’s eyes laser back to me. “Liz staying at your house, then?”
“Yeah. Fal, too. We’ll head back to campus on Saturday.”
Fallon leans over to whisper in my ear, “Have you had enough of this kumbaya bullshit yet?” I nod yes. “Come on, kitten. Let’s get out of here. You guys can continue to shoot the shit. I’m taking kitten with me,” he tells Ryder.
Ryder squeezes me tighter to his side as Jayson stares holes into me. “Hold up, man. We’re coming,” Ryder tells Fallon.
And then I see it. The thing I have adamantly avoided. I made sure to fix my gaze away from it when I walked up to Jayson’s front door. I made sure to look away from it when Jayson dragged me into the forest. But I can’t avoid it anymore. My childhood home stands before me like a haunted house of horrors. It’s dark inside, curtains closed. It looks old and decrepit, a twisted shell of the warm, welcoming home of my memories.
“Baby, look at me,” Ryder begs, but I can’t. I can’t tear my eyes away from it.
“Fuck,” I hear someone say.
“Get Liz out of here.”
I forcibly remove Ryder’s hold on my waist. “No.” I walk up to the back patio steps. I feel so small standing there, like a lost soul staring up at the gates of Hell.
“Mom said no one has lived here. It’s been locked up and empty for a while,” Jayson informs me.
I trail my fingers along the deck railing. Hailey and I would come out here and lie in the sun during the summers. I never was able to get a proper tan no matter how long we stayed out here. Jayson and I would recline together on one of the loungers and watch the night sky or we would come out here when it rained. I always loved the sound of the rain hitting the deck flooring, or the earthy scent of the air after a storm.
I press my palms flat against the back door.Heran out through this door that night. This is the doorHeused to escape after killing my family and stabbing me.Hedestroyed my life then fled.Hetook my family from me. How is any of that fair? I pound my closed fists against the door and the glass panes rattle. I turn around to see wide-eyed faces standing at the bottom of the steps not knowing what to do. Except for Fallon. The tips of his lips curve up. He understands what I need.
“Look down and to the right, kitten.”
I do as he says. There’s an old, weathered baseball bat lying on the deck. I remember it. It belonged to this little boy, Danny, that lived down the street. Hailey would sometimes babysit him at our house on the weekend. He must have left it here. I strip my gloves off and bend over and pick it up. The metal of the handle is cold to the touch. It’s covered in dirt and the painted letters of the brand name are mostly worn off. I test its weight then fist the handle with both hands and swing with all my might. Two glass panels on the back door explode and shatter into diamonds.
“Jesus Christ, Liz! What are you doing?” Julien yelps.
“Elizabeth, stop,” Ryder says next.
Fallon tells them, “She needs to do this. Let her.”
I swing the bat again. More glass breaks, tiny shards collecting on my shoes and leggings like snowflakes.
I tune out the male arguments behind me knowing Fallon will keep Ryder, Jayson, and Julien away. I swing again at the back door. And again. And again. The doorknob flies off and I kick the door in, holding the bat like a broadsword. I step inside and almost vomit at the musty smell that accosts me.
I yell over my shoulder, “Stay out!” and then I disappear inside the darkness.
Chapter 16
It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust but when they do, I scan my surroundings. Everything looks the same as I remember. It’s as if the house has turned into a museum where each room is a diorama or an exact replica of itself from two years ago. I’m in the kitchen. Instead of the putrid, stale smell of the interior air, my senses smell the aroma of the apple crumb muffins Mom used to bake. I see the kitchen island where Hailey and I would sit and laugh while Mom puttered away cooking. I notice that there are only three chairs instead of four at the kitchen table. I was tied to the fourth chair. I broke it trying to escape fromHim. I scan the floor expecting to see pieces of broken wood scattered across the tile, but there’s nothing. It’s like the events of that night never took place right where I’m now standing.
My gaze tracks to the pantry door, which is open and empty. My unfocused eyes watch in a trance asHepulls Hailey out of it by her hair and drags her limp body across the floor. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut trying not to see what comes next. If I don’t open my eyes, then I won’t see whatHedoes to Hailey. But I still see it. I still hear it. I hear her dying gasps as he plunges his knife into her. I hear his grunts as he savagely assaults her in front of me. I hear him screaming at me to look, to see. I still don’t understand what he meant, and not knowing is driving me mad. What did he want me to see so badly? Why did he keep saying those words to me?
My eyes fly open. I’m at the living room entrance. There’s no more carpet on the floor. As if removing the carpet would prevent me from seeing the large pool of blood spreading out around the prone bodies of my parents. Their dead eyes locked on me while I was tied to that chair.
