Excerpt for Flight of The Monarchs by Elias Williams, available in its entirety at Smashwords



Flight of The Monarchs

Elias Williams

Copyright © Elias W Williams 2010

Published at Smashwords

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1 – Flight of the Monarchs


AUTUMN LIFTED THE butterfly house and carried it to her desk. She set it down and peered at the little monarchs fluttering and perching on the netted walls of the house. Sunlight shone through her turquoise curtains and Autumn sighed, knowing that she had to let the monarchs fly away someday. Technically, the due date for her butterflies to take flight was about three days ago, but little Autumn just couldn't bring herself to open the door to the netted house. That day, she had her window open, the curtains stripped from them to make sure all the butterflies could escape safely. Darkness arrived with the monarchs still fluttering in the house and the windows shut and locked securely, Autumn shivering and crying while entangled in her blue satin bedsheets. And then she made a decision. She couldn't wish them goodbye alone.

So, today, she was going through the list of all of her friends to see who she would wish to witness the flight of the butterflies, and she settled on Lucy. Well, Lucy wasn't really a friend.

Lucy... Lucy hated Autumn, but Autumn always loved Lucy. Lucy's contemptuous glares would send warm shivers down Autumn's spine and she would return her glares with a gracious smile. She was thankful for Lucy. Thankful that Lucy at least paid attention, even if the attention was negative. Autumn always counted how many seconds Lucy glared at her, spoke to her, and touched her. She'd total up the amount each day, convert it to minutes and calculate the averages every month. Every month, Lucy's daily attention average, or LDA as Autumn called it, stayed relatively consistent. Except for this month. This month was different. This month, her average was 8 minutes and forty seconds—around three minutes longer than usual. Lucy was a Godsend. Autumn's friends may speak to her, let her join the circle, but it felt more like their responses to her were minimal or automatically generated compared to how they spoke to others. At least Lucy had a genuine interest, a genuine acknowledgment to Autumn.

However, Autumn also had an interest in Lucy. Maybe she was obsessive, maybe she was too eager. It was this fear that kept her quiet. Because, that's what they told her. The closest friends she ever had. Lucy had beautiful dark hair reaching down to her shoulders, bangs long enough to cover her eyebrows and some of her eyes. Even during warm summer days, Lucy's skin was untouched by the sun, sustaining a wintery pale colour. Her pale brown eyes were like a porcelain doll's in shape, but she always wore that look of shyness and distrust, and occasionally one that tells of a shadow lurking in the dark. When she spoke, her voice was smooth, deep and hoarse and when she laughed it was even more so, although her laughs always seemed sarcastic. The words that came from those rosy lips were often cruel and frank, as she had nothing kind to say to anyone. And at twelve years old, Lucy towered over most of her classmates at five-foot-seven with a thin, bony frame oddly suited for dance.

And dancing did Autumn find Lucy when she reached the thicket before the lake in the orchards outside her neighborhood. She peered out from the bushes , scanning the area by the lake where Lucy's mom said she would be. And a few feet from the shore, ankle-deep in the murky water, Lucy twirled, gracefully extending, withdrawing, and extending her right leg again. Her arms made similar movements, supplying the main rhythm and keeping in tune with her legs. And suddenly, with a sweeping flourish, she jumped and landed on both feet, one in front of the other with only the toe touching the ground. She took a bow and held her hand out as if she expected someone to accept it. Ballet and Lucy?

Quietly, Autumn crept away from her post and tiptoed down the sandy slope and onto the shore. Lucy still stood there in the same position, a contemplative expression on her face, eyes open but cast at the ground. She wore an oversized T-shirt, faded jeans and flip-flops. She obviously went in for a swim earlier because her hair was damp and stuck to her face, neck and shoulders and her T-shirt clung to body. The beads of water on her skin glistened under the bright yellow sun.

“Lucy?” Autumn said hesitantly. Lucy slowly looked up, gazing blissfully at Autumn before standing upright. The bliss was soon replaced by fear.

“Did you come down for a swim?” she asked, managing not to fumble over her words. Autumn's lips twitched, sadness in her eyes. But, she was also deeply intrigued. Not very many people saw Lucy so startled, embarrassed and vulnerable. This fact sent a comfortable pool of warmth and pride to Autumn's core. Seeing Lucy's vulnerability had not only brought Autumn a step closer to Lucy, but also made her feel honored. Autumn slowly approached Lucy and held out her hand.

“You looked lonely. When you extended your hand...did it mean that you wanted to dance with someone?” Autumn asked, feeling more confident in her words. Even more warmth spread through her veins when she threw Lucy off once again. Lucy's eyebrows raised and she stood still in front of the delicate blonde-haired girl before her. “You hate me, I know.” Then, Lucy's eyebrows furrowed. Autumn's heart jumped in her chest and the satisfactory warmth left her. Did she anger Lucy?

“Who said that? Who said that I hated you?” Lucy asked confusedly. Both girls were silent for a moment and Autumn withdrew her hand. The soft sound of the water slapping against their ankles and against the shore was the only conspicuous sounds around them.

“The way you speak to me, they way you look at me, tells me only one thing: that you hate me. I want to know why,” Autumn replied, her voice drenched with fear and solemnity. Lucy didn't respond right away. Instead, she picked up a rounded stone from the water and chucked it into the bushes. Autumn raised an eyebrow, but continued to stand there, silent, still and patient.

“You look at me too,” Lucy replied. Autumn felt angry.

“You never answered MY question!” she exclaimed, grabbing Lucy by the shoulders. Autumn was the second tallest girl in class at about five-foot-five. Lucy appeared uncomfortable at the sudden contact, flinching slightly, but made no motion to push Autumn away.

“Because I like you, and that confuses me. Why a little brat like you? A nobody like you?” she answered. Autumn was exasperated. She was far from satisfied with this answer.

“A nobody? It's not like you have any friends,” she shot back. Lucy smiled at Autumn. It was a sad and sickeningly sweet smile. Autumn's heart jumped again as Lucy leaned forward and pressed her nose against hers.

“I don't, but that's because I never fit quite right,” she said, “And I hate people. But, I wanted to be around you, so I tried my hardest to hate you, because that confused me.”

“You like me?” Autumn smiled brightly, wonderfully happy, but still embarrassed at how close they still were. Lucy stepped back, a cool breeze blowing between them when they did.

“I came to ask you something important,” Autumn said. “You mum said you'd be here.”

“Wasn't that it?” Lucy asked curiously.

“No...,” Autumn answered, gazing into Lucy's eyes, “I need someone with me while I free my butterflies.”

“Butterflies? What kind?”


Lucy, wearing a fresh pair of clothes borrowed from Autumn, carefully unzipped the door to the butterfly house and sat on the floor with Autumn, who already stripped the open window of her bedroom of it's curtains. And then tens of monarchs burst from their house, some fluttering around the room and some already escaping to where the sun was calling. The bright orb shone through Autumn's window, making the flight of the monarchs appear even more magical as it cast it's light through the butterflies, making them appear transparent, and upon the ground. Autumn never saw a sun more beautiful then on this day, and she began to cry when Lucy sat next to her. Awkwardly, Lucy wrapped her arms around Autumn and buried her face into her hair.

“Don't cry,” she whispered softly as Autumn coiled her arms around her in return. Autumn then continued to watch the monarchs fly off through blurry eyes. She smiled to herself, because she knew that the monarchs were free, free to do whatever they wished now.

Autumn also wasn't alone anymore. The flight of the monarchs took only a few minutes, but it felt like hours almost. Autumn didn't cry because she felt lonely without the monarchs. She cried because she felt free and the emotion made her soul swell up tremendously. It was overwhelming.

But it would go away soon, she knew.

Being free wouldn't be so overwhelming anymore.

For her, it would be a way of living from now on for forever.




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