Winter butterfly

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A priest, or perhaps a person who fears God as a superior being asks only one question in life.

“What is death? And why do we fear it?”

Yet a God doesn’t want to show his miracle of death.

23rd of December 1984. 
Livorno, Italy.

The cold and heartless snow dances through the air like it’s alive and breathing.

For some, the snow was cold, but for me it was strangely lukewarm.

The cheapish pink rabbit I held onto was my only source of light, as the sky grew ever so eerie, draining the sunlight from the infinite space above. While the moon shines through the empty void-like clouds...

And the grand tree in the middle of the courtyard seemed absolutely dead.

Not even a single leaf painted the ground in the usual beautiful sunset-like color, only the frost from the loathing winter in the air had set its mark on the tree.

…However, one otherworldly bright snowflake seems out of place.

Like a white orb, it flies at its own pace, ignoring the other freezing light-gray orbs. With what looks like two white and beautiful, yet tiny wings.

Was this… what they call a butterfly? …I had never read about a winter butterfly in any book, shouldn’t the ice in the air have killed it?

I had never seen a butterfly since my entire world was burnt within this melancholic church.

As I try to touch the elegant silk-looking wings of this unfamiliar creature, it ducks as fast as i blink.

It was strange, in the middle of this moonlit night and as the air grows colder, it still drifts about.

As I stand up, as if it is waiting for me, the butterfly flies away.

Does it want me to follow it? Or maybe it's just exploring the vicinity. I don't know, but I feel like following it anyhow, was i so interested in such a small living being?

The vast loafing moon above is the same color as the flying creature. Perhaps it came from all the way up there…?

I begin walking, and as I do, it too moves away by a mere speck of a distance.

"H-hello… Miss butterfly……"

I force the words out of my tiny mouth, knowing the lunar being won't even realize I had said anything at all.

These were the first words I had spoken in almost 4 months, as I had been told to stay quiet and obedient by the other priests.

I walk even further toward the butterfly, without any doubt or worry…

Frankly, I had never seen a being this beautiful… 

All my life, humans have been the same. Gray and empty, without a hint of warmth.

The only living being I knew was real, was humans. And they were all creatures with black souls.

I was so fixated on the snow-white orb you call a butterfly, that I had forgotten what misery was for anything but a second.

Pain and joy was something that didn't exist in me, the only thing I knew was desolation. Knowing that I was a creature born and raised from sin itself…

Here I am, not being obedient once more… I'd definitely get shouted at again… But I do not feel scared. I had forgotten fear, as if it drowned in a single moment of heavenly peace.

I walk in the longest corridor of the main church, still letting the spirit of the butterfly grab my hand and lead me away.

The flying orb illuminates the heartless white century-old walls of the church.

It's like a wizard shining his bright spell along the darkness, with the wings of light carrying itself away.

Its life arouses me, I want to see where it wants to go.

Maybe it is a gift from God themselves?

Then… it suddenly stops, in the chancel, where the silhouette of a tall man resides.

The chancel had a distinctive smell to it, the smell of old, red wine and dust from the pews. The two smells shouldn’t be mixed together, yet it was easily noticeable here.

I stop myself from going any further when it flies towards him.

"So they cried out to the Lord in their distress, and God saved them from their desperate circumstances. God brought them out from the dark…”

The man suddenly stops reading the words of God aloud through the empty void.

It's my own father. The highest ranking priest and the owner of the church, who enjoyed humans more than anything else.

"So you came… my daughter..?
Well, of course you did, God had already decided that of you."

The book closes loudly, as the sound tries to escape the emptiness of the hall.

He turns around, ignoring the book he was reading just a moment ago. The rusty and inhumane voice of his rings through the giant room.

The butterfly which I had forgotten about just a moment ago, was now flying around the man.

I don't feel like saying anything to him. 
That's wrong... I was too scared to say anything.

My throat hurts… and my legs feel like roots thrusting themselves deep underground.

So I stay put, ignoring the wishes to reach towards the eerie creature inside me.

"...I see… You're staying quiet, then?"

He frowns as he looks down on the expensive carpet covering every inch of marble.

"You've perhaps noticed the strange butterfly, right? The thing that seems ever so fixated on my aura"

Even though the bug flies around him, he still doesn't pay attention to it, only staring at my small figure.

"My graceful daughter. Do you see this creature?"

He stretches out his right arm towards me, with his palm exposed…

I still focus on the beautiful hope of moonlight still lingering around him, but I want to ignore it.

"This butterfly.. is a weak creature…"

The butterfly, like some stage play puppet or determination of fate… flies towards his palm and slowly makes itself comfortable there, shining like a gem on his hand.

My father closes his eyes, resting his entire body down… and grips his hand as hard as he possibly can.

Slowly and steadily… he closes his arm, crushing the creature between his fingers of steel.

It looked painful, yet I didn't feel a single fragment of sensation.

The beautiful slither of the moon I wanted to touch so much, was now gray and empty, its wings crushed together like wasteful trashcan paper.

It didn't feel elegant nor bewitching anymore.. So I ignored my heart, as it still wanted to explore more of the world these creatures live in.

The wicked, yet holy hand of his, had broken its beauty like a steel hammer shattering a weak, miserable piece of glass.

This was the first time I had… seen something get killed, a weak creature with no worries.

It was killed just like that, with the hands that could hold a newborn daughter.

Why did it seem so cruel… but so endearing at the same time…?

“You… my daughter… you are smiling…”

Was death like this? Was it so bittersweet… that you want to touch it yet again and once again and once again…and once again..?

“...You’re smiling, yet so cruelly… my daughter…”

A wistful-like smile rose to the girl’s face, yet it wasn’t a sad smile, it looked disgustingly miserable…

My body has moved on its own again, I don't feel anything… yet my face brings forward wonder in slight bliss.

Was I really so fond of the ‘death’ of a weaker being… or was I in love with losing hope…?

“Whatever are you pondering on? You seem awestruck.”

He moves towards me, every step approaches closer and closer to home. Then he stops coldly right in front of me…

This man was a giant compared to my small and fragile body, but I was only born 8 years ago.

“Hold out your hand.”

I automatically do as he says, as he slowly and gently grabs it. whilst he uninvitedly kneels before me, to seem as small as me.

“Do you know what true sin is?”

He asks slowly and closes his eyes, as if he wants me to think deeply about it.

“True sin is being created weak as a flower… as a butterfly without color...

Do you know why humans can pray to God, yet dogs and cats can’t?”

“...”

“Because humans reigns over every creature on this earth.”

“Because, us humans are stronger and as a result, God gave us more love.”

“He made us smarter, so in the end, we could… read the words of God like any other fickle book. He wanted us to understand him, with our strengths.”

“But you can never understand God completely, that’s why we all have a flaw within us.”

I stay silent, but I understand him. He’s not the regular kind of priest I was used to talking to. My father was like another being from the pit of God’s chosen men…

Even the girl didn’t know what kind of a priest this man was. He believed sin to be human’s greatest strength, and he would sacrifice anything for the higher being that had created evil itself.

“The creator who oversees heaven… wouldn’t kill evil, because he knows all humans have evil in their lost little souls.”

“You’re not a human, if you believe yourself to never have sinned since birth. If you want to become a great priest, like your many predecessors, you’ll have to understand the flaws in human nature.”

“You were born in such a fragile body, but you will not give up just yet, you will destroy the  weakness this world possesses, right? That’s one of the reasons you were created by him. The  other one you must figure out yourself, as you grow to become what he bestowed upon you.”

“You might even have to break something someday. Only God knows what. You shall not kill, yet you shall sin. As being a creature without sin, is blasphemy in and of itself.”

He kneels in front of me, while looking me in the eyes. His eyes look empty and savage, at the same time he tries to smile like a normal human being.

“You must not forget… This is what your mother wanted from you. To become the closest to God himself. You are a hunter of sin, your purpose is to destroy sin by your own sin.”

The butterfly bled a freezing red substance, something you wouldn’t expect from such a tiny being of hopelessness.

As he hands it over to my tiny hand, it melts through my hand. Spilling itself as a liquid all over the floor.

Is he even a human being, if he's so feared?

The other priests in the church did not want the empty girl to become the next head priest, for she was sinful…

.

She was unlucky enough to be born from her mother’s depraved death…

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She was a child born in sin and raised through blood, an empty husk who never learnt what humanity truly is, she never learnt the art of coalesce… The idea of surviving together.

.

As she lived and bathed all her short life in loneliness, for no priest would dare touch her…

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Because the father who should have cherished the girl… was a broken shell, the hollowing of a dead human…

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How she thought it was normal… yet the shallow God entrusted her with the will of isolation, the undisclosed reality of death...

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She didn’t know that the wish of her inner self was a dream like any other, because she felt inhumane…

.

She’s a witch, who deserves to burn. Not entirely because she’s mystical, but for the reason that she’s the so-called devil’s child… 

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What is a small girl supposed to do… when God makes her a depraved being unworthy of feeling a certain warmth..? While God plays with man as he sees fit.

.

Is a small child still a sin, if they have no choice or willpower over their own destiny?

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