his only defense for survival. I recalled the slow grin broadening across his chiseled and charming face, and how desperately I tried to save him with my undying love. All I found was his hollow heart. Back to my library, I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, then upon the shelf again for my dear William. This time I scanned Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. “In a man as well as herbs, grace and rude will, full soon the canker Death eats up the plant.” So, in every bad person, there’s a great person just waiting to get out and take charge? I returned the book back upon the shelf; moving forward, I reached down to Robert Louis Stevenson. I drank from his words, a soothing tonic, and spread my wings to understanding. According to Stevenson, he writes the perfect picture of a good man, Dr. Jekyll, who obviously cannot control his evil doings and then changes him into Mr. Hyde. I dropped the book and it sounded loudly upon the floor. In my silent room, I jumped. Taking a deep breath stabled me. With a subtle winged flutter and a count of ten, I exhaled then relaxed. Although weary with turmoil, I was unsatisfied and reached for my dear William again. I whisked through the pages of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, and read: “Like as, to make our appetite more keen, With eager compounds we our palate urge; As, to prevent our maladies unseen, We sicken to shun sickness when we purge” So swallow the bitter pill. Endure pain and its painful treatment to get well. On another rainy day, I, Lady Butterfly, found myself back in my library, sickly reverting back to unpleasant days gone passed with the charmer, i.e., monstrous Monarch. As I slammed another book shut, its dust particles danced above its yellowed pages, tickling my nostrils. I let out a loud sneeze which sent me backward, flying against the shelves from behind, thwarting me from my mission for closure. Dust particles, seen through a sudden beam of sunlight through my window, danced iridescently as minute ballerinas before my eyes. Playfully, the dusty devils landed in front of me, in plia. How entertaining this must have been to the fly upon the wall. I regained my composure and felt drawn to my window by the rays of the sun. I noticed a male butterfly with wings large and angelic as he dipped about picking flowers. My lashes blinked, clearing my vision, to obtain a closer look. When he discovered me watching, he moved closer toward my window. It was difficult to determine my heartbeat from the flutter of my wings and from delight. He fanned back at me, smiled, and held up the bouquet. While lifting my window, I saw a crucifix colorfully designed into his wing. I knew that he was a chosen one, and though I was tattered and torn, I knew it was time to rest. When the gentle breeze flew in, I felt his warm embrace. Then I, Lady Butterfly, folded and encompassed, found the soothing of my soul. 28
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