Little Butterfly

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
2
Copyright © 2015 by R. McDonnell.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not
be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without
the express written permission of the publisher except for
the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Ebook released in Australia
First release: 2015
ISBN 978-0-9943564-1-3
Jewel House
Perth
Western Australia
To contact the publisher mail to :Email Publisher
www.jewelhousegossip.com

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
3
Mastering his fear he transcends toward death.
Holding fast to the belief that fuelled his intent, he took
each step slowly.
Standing atop the tower in the moonless night, he filled
his senses with the twinkling lights of the city and the
reflections on the water.
Breathing deeply, he reminded himself that truth was his,
owning all that was to be, all that had gone before and all
that was to come.
Sliding his hand into his pocket, he fingered the note
written to enlighten those who sought the truth.
Walking the small platform, he whispered his mantra,
repeating his connection and resonance with the earth,
water, air and fire.
He pushed up onto the railing, balancing his weight as he
crouched, knees bent, and hands holding tightly. Releasing
his fingers and pushing forward with his feet, he pictured
being one with all things.
Falling into the darkness, confident in his truth, he
became one with his belief.
****

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
4
Eyes fixed in death, broken and twisted, the drizzling
rain bathed him in preparation for the autopsy table.
Police tape cordoned off the area while curious
onlookers watched in sombre silence. The soft rain
whispered the first signs of the approaching winter.
Looking at the imposing double spiral staircase built to
represent the Double Helix Molecule of DNA, she
shuddered, hoping she wouldn’t have to climb the one
hundred and one steps to the top.
“You ready?” Carter asked, zipping up his weatherproof
jacket.
Nodding, Amelia flipped up the hood of her jacket and
covered her auburn hair. “Yes,” she breathed, opening the
car door. “What do you think… jumper?” she asked, glancing
up at the tower and then back at the body.
“Could be,” Carter replied, nodding to the Officer
controlling the growing crowd of curious onlookers. “You
would think they would have something better to do.”
“I guess there’s nothing like a drama to start the day.”
Sliding her hands into her jacket Amelia walked briskly
beside Carter towards the Officer standing vigil over the
body.
Ignoring the rain and the curious looks of the growing
crowd, he moved towards Carter. “Coroner’s Investigation

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5
Unit has been notified, and we have locked down the scene.
A jogger found him and called triple zero for an ambulance.
The guy was still alive when she called. That’s her in the
patrol car,” the officer said, pointing at the car. “Detective
Lee,” he said, looking over at Carter.
Watchful and alert, the women waved at Amelia and
opened the door. Dressed in sweat pants and a tee shirt, her
hair damp, her body lean and toned, she jogged towards
them.
“Joy,” Amelia said, her face breaking into a smile.
Walking quickly to his Commodore, Carter popped the
boot and took the space blanket from the first aid kit he
carried.
Jogging towards Joy, he shook it free from its wrapping.
“Joy, what are you doing here?” he asked, draping the
blanket around her shoulders and stepping back.
“Thanks,” she whispered, wrapping the blanket tightly
around her. “I was going for a run. I take a week’s leave, and
I’m still working,” she said with a smile. “I found him about
six this morning; he was conscious, but only just. I did what I
could while I waited for the ambulance and you guys. He
died just after the ambo’s got here.”
“Did he say anything?”
She shook her head. “He was barely hanging on Carter.”

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“What’s your thought?”
“Jumper.”
“You sure?”
“No, but there are no signs of a struggle, his hands have
no cuts or bruises. It looks like he hit face first, he’s a
mess,” she said, walking with Carter towards Amelia and
the Paramedics.
Carter scanned the young man with the battered face
and the compound fractures distorting his body.
“There was nothing we could do,” the Paramedic said.
“I’d say massive internal injuries.”
“Thanks, did he say anything to you?” he asked, glancing
up at the paramedic
“No. Detective Lee did her best to keep him breathing, he
wasn’t conscious when we got here.”
Hands on hips, Carter leaned back and looked up at the
tower and then down at the body, his mind busy working out
angles and positioning.
“How high?” he asked, looking at Amelia.
“About fifteen metres or so.”
Shaking his head and smiling, he pushed up on his
knees. “I’m old school, feet?”
“Close to fifty feet,” Joy Lee answered. “I’m old school
too, but unlike Carter I’ve learned the maths.”

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7
“Anybody see anything?”
“No one was here when I jogged past it was only just
getting light.”
“You said he was face down when you found him, right?”
“Yes,” Joy said with a nod. “I rolled him over, but you can
see the blood splatter here and here,” she said, pointing at
the ground.
Angling the camera, Carter took photos while listening to
Joy. “Did you see anything else on the ground?”
“Not that I could see.”
Sliding his hands into the pockets of the bloodied jeans
he pulled out a wallet and opened it. “Jonathon House aged
nineteen.” Handing the wallet to Amelia, he unfolded the
piece of paper he found in the jacket pocket.
Eyes locked on the paper in front of him, he breathed out
slowly. “Looks like a suicide note, but it makes no sense to
me.”
“What’s it say?”
“What is, is not.
What was, may be.
What appears to be real is always false.
I die freely, knowing the truth.”
****

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
8
Leaning back in the leather office chair she gazed out the
window onto the manicured gardens of Jewel House. The
sound of tyres crunching over the blue metal alerted her to
the Porsche meandering its way up the long driveway.
Owned by Sam Emmerson, Jewel House was nestled in
the hills of Roleystone. It was a large house with five
bedrooms, all with their own bathroom, a gym, lounge and
dining room and a well equipped kitchen, surrounded by
three acres of native bush and tall gum trees.
Scanning her office, she smiled at the order and comfort
it gave. The office was larger than the one she had at St
Michael’s. It was equipped with leather armchairs, a polished
mahogany desk which rested in the corner of the room, and
a high back leather office chair, designed for ease and style,
which held her snugly. She was now comfortable in her role
providing support and counselling for Sam. Her new practice
as an independent practitioner and consultant was beginning
to grow, and she was settling into working from Jewel
House. Pushing back from her desk, she walked towards the
front door.
Joy smiled when she saw Adrienne’s silver BMW
convertible, pulling the Porsche alongside, she leaned back

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into the leather seat gathering her thoughts before walking to
the front door. She rang the doorbell with a nervous hand
and then ran her hands through jet black hair while she
waited.
“Joy… nice to see you,” Adrienne said, hugging her.
“You look good,” she said with a smile and returning the
hug.
“Come in.” Draping her arm around Joy she led her
through the hallway into the spacious lounge room.
“Do you want coffee?”
“Please.”
“Good, coffee is made,” Adrienne told her. “It's so good
to see you.”
Pulling out a stool Joy sat down and rested her elbows
on the bench top in the large well equipped kitchen.
“I’m just dropping some things off for Kyle. I pick her up
from the airport at three this afternoon. I saw your car, so I
thought I would pop in.”
“Oh, I didn’t know she was away, she didn’t mention it to
me,” Adrienne replied, resting the coffee mugs next to the
coffee maker.
“Some spur of the moment business thing,” Joy told her.

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
10
Pouring the coffees, Adrienne glanced over at Joy.
“What’s on your mind?” she asked, setting a mug of coffee in
front of Joy and sitting opposite her.
Running her fingers over the handle of the mug she
smiled. “You always do that… why can’t I just visit?”
Adrienne shrugged and raised the coffee mug to her lips.
“I found a body this morning.”
Sipping her coffee, Adrienne waited.
“Suicide, I’m on leave, go for a jog and find a body. Can
you believe that?”
Opening a tin of ginger snaps and placing it in easy
reach; she smiled at Joy waiting for her to continue.
“Well… I was wondering why people kill themselves,” she
said, biting into a ginger snap before finishing her sentence.
“Many reasons, fear, deep despondency, terror, a sense
of worthlessness, the list is endless. Essentially death is
seen as the only way out.” Resting her mug on the bench,
she leaned towards Joy. “Now… you want to tell me the real
reason you’re here?”
Blushing and shifting uncomfortably on her stool, she
reached for another ginger snap.
“It's Kyle. I'm worried about her.”
“I see.”
“Do you know she’s having nightmares?”

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Rochelle McDonnell
11
“Joy, I can’t discuss Kyle with you, you know that.”
“I know… It freaks me out, she wakes up in the middle of
the night screaming, yelling all sorts of stuff… she’s crying
and begging you for forgiveness…” Her voice fading out, she
looked out the window.
Resting her elbows on the breakfast bar, Adrienne
smiled. “So you and Kyle?”
“About six weeks now. You didn’t know? I thought she
would have told you,” she said, her eyes fixed on the tree
outside the kitchen window.
“Oh, I know, I’m not blind. I was waiting for you to tell
me.”
Hiding behind her coffee mug Joy turned and looked at
Adrienne.
“I didn’t know how you would react.”
“Come on Joy, you know me better than that. This is not
easy for me, I am her psychiatrist I am also her friend and
yours, and I walk a tightrope every day trying to balance the
two.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It just happened… I
mean we got close when we were all hiding out from
Ahemed. At first I thought we were drawn together because
of all the drama.” She paused, gathering her thoughts.
“But...” She shrugged, lost for words.

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Leaning across the breakfast bar Adrienne took Joy’s
hand gently in hers.
“Sweetie, it's hard enough being in a relationship, never
mind a same sex relationship. There is so much prejudice
and judgement. With Kyle being who she is, a recluse,
someone who needs her space and privacy, and who hides
the fact that she is Sam Emmerson, it’s not going to be
easy.” She paused, holding Joy’s eyes. “Add to that her
disassociation and all that goes with, you’re taking on a lot,”
she said gently.
“I know,” Joy whispered, brushing away a tear. “But I
want to be with her, I just need some help.”
****
The hand held gently, shook with the emotion that
surged in waves. Amelia looked down at the delicate fingers
clawing in grief and seeking comfort from her touch. Sitting
rigidly next to his wife, his face pale, jaw clenched, fighting
with his loss and anger, Eddie House swallowed back the
pain and looked to Carter.
“We are both so sorry to have to bring this news,” Carter
said. “Is there anyone we could call?”

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
13
Shaking his head, he fixed his eyes on a spot on the
floor. “No… his sister, oh god Sarah, we need to call Janet.”
This revelation brought on a bout of fresh sobbing from
his wife. Amelia rubbed her back gently.
“Would you like me to call her for you?” Amelia asked.
Sarah House shook her head. “No… I.” Unable to
answer, she allowed the grief to consume her.
“Mr House, do you know if anything was troubling
Jonathon?”
“No, he was a good boy, a good son,” he told them, the
words filled with emotion.
“Yes, I am sure he was,” Carter said, his voice soft and
even. “Did anything happen recently that was out of the
ordinary?”
“No.”
“Was Jonathon working?”
Eddie House cleared his throat in the vain attempt to
control the tremor in his voice. “No he is…was a student.”
Stumbling over the words, he coughed and looked down at
the floor.
“What was he studying?”
“Um.” Wiping an errant tear he glanced at his wife.
“Social Sciences at Scott University.”
“Did you meet any of his friends?”

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
14
“Yes… they are good lads, all of them.”
“So nothing happened that you are aware of that may
have been troubling Jonathon?” he asked again.
“He was a bit stressed with his studies,” she said quietly.
“That new thing he was studying… Ed, you remember…”
Her voice trailed off as a fresh wave of tears fell.
“I don’t know… some new course he signed up for,” he
said quietly.
“I don’t understand why… why he did it? He was a good
boy, my baby.”
“We don’t know, I am so sorry, but we just don’t know at
the moment,” Amelia said gently.
Moving the box of tissues closer, Amelia rested her
hand on a shoulder that trembled with grief.
Carter rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his
hands.
“Mr House, even though we found Jonathon’s wallet with
his driver’s licence, we do need for someone to formally
identify that it is Jonathon.”
“What does that mean?”
Carter looked to Amelia; he took a long slow breath
before looking at Ed House.

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
15
“For you to view Jonathon and tell us if it is him,” he said
gently. “A counsellor will meet with you and go through
everything.”
It was late afternoon, Carter leaned back in his chair,
fingers interlaced behind his head, eyes closed looking for
answers. Blocking out the sounds of ringing telephones and
the conversations of his colleagues, he focused his thoughts
on the broken body of Jonathon House.
Worrying through the morning events and trying to
understand why someone so young had decided to end it all,
he sighed. There was no history of mental illness, no
depression, nothing out of the ordinary. A strong young man
who studied hard and never had been in any serious trouble,
now dead.
“Carter?” Amelia’s voice penetrated his thoughts. “Planet
earth to Carter,” she teased.
Unlocking his fingers and opening his eyes, he leaned on
the desk looking across at Amelia.
“That was the Coroner’s Office. Mr House will be
identifying the body in the morning.” Looking at Carter to see
if he was listening, she continued. “He said that early
toxicology showed no traces of alcohol, we should have the
full results by tomorrow.”

Little Butterfly
Rochelle McDonnell
16
“Okay.”
“Initial assessment is suicide. Carter, this was the fourth
suicide in the past three weeks, all young adults between the
ages of nineteen and twenty-two.”
“Hmm… anything else?”
“No, that’s about it,” she said, flicking through her
notebook.
“I want to interview some of his friends from the
university, see if they know anything. You know how it is…
kids will tell their mates what they won’t tell their parents. We
can also speak with his lecturers; you never know they may
be able to tell us something.”
“Tomorrows job?” she asked, glancing at her watch.
“Tomorrow… you know something Amelia,” he continued
not waiting for an answer, “that note was strange… why
would you write I freely die?”
****
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