Bye-bye butterfly

- - -

Maria frowned, her delicate blonde eyebrows drawing together wearily as she closed her eyes, attempting to choke back on her coughs that seemed to have worsened since last night. Her throat burned whenever she swallowed saliva and water or any other liquid to help cleanse the poison lingering acidly upon her flesh. Gently touching her neck with her slender limp fingers, she was surprised that there was no sign of a sprouting goiter. It has been a little over a month since this mysterious illness dawned upon her and after much reluctance, she finally agreed to James' insistence on seeking medical attention. Poor James. He had been nothing but supportive and patient, but now she could tell his patience was taking a toll on him. Nurses and doctors flurried in and out of her room, sometimes taking her temperature, sometimes giving her random pills that made her head spin, or worse, hallucinate. They were not healing her; rather, they were driving her off the edge sanity, clouding her vision and distorting her perceptions. She was sick of it and James was sick of it. Why won't the damn doctors just tell her what was wrong with her? Or maybe those sadistic bastards enjoyed tantalizing James, seeing when he would finally snap like tension hitting a taut cord.

Sighing heavily, Maria threw her head against the puffy pillows that didn't really offer much comfort. She pulled her blanket closer to her chest, suddenly feeling a bitter cold chill penetrating her body, causing her limbs to go weak and shake beneath her warm covers. She had no idea how long she had been resting in her hospital bed. There wasn't a clock in her room, which oddly reminded her of a padded cell with nothing but a bed and a lonely nightstand beside it. Rain was pounding incessantly against the windowpane, screaming and begging to be let in. The lack of light streaming from the sun made her room gloomier and darker than it already was, and the brooding dimness only unnerved her already agitated senses.

When her hallucination was at its worst stage, she'd see ominous shadows resembling monsters from the deepest recess of her mind. They were familiar, almost too familiar. She had encountered them before when she went through the abyss of hell on earth. The blood drenched creatures with no faces, contorted bodies, and heart wrenching moans came back for her in her hospital room, their ominous shadows thrown on the walls all around her, surrounding her and then plummeting on to her all at once. Maria remembered herself screaming for help, but no one came to her aid, not one single damn person in this wretched hospital.

Not even James. The wardens of her new prison escorted him out, encouraging him to go back home and get some rest, but Maria saw past their benevolent façade. They wanted her to rot in her cell, they wanted her to die slowly, but James came back. He always did.

She knew he wouldn't abandon her, not after what happened to his late wife Mary. He promised her he was going to cherish and love her, the way Maria was supposed to be loved and she believed him, every word of it.

James, he was going to visit her later and even though there was no means of telling time in the cell they locked her in, Maria knew he'd appear at her door when the first sunray peaked through her window or when the birds beside her windowsill chirped delicately. She liked listening to their song for it made her feel special, like it was a sweet serenade that was meant for her ears and her ears only.

The constriction in her throat seem to have waded a bit, but she knew the convulsions would be back, attacking her stronger tenfold. Maria cast one glance at the window and frowned when she saw that the storm taking place outside was getting stronger. Rain always saddened her. They looked like tears, thousands of lost tears roaming around, trying to find a direction or course to pursue when there was none. They'd eventually land in a big puddle, the end for them.

Her weak hand fumbled across her nightstand for the shaft of her mirror, a beautifully crafted gift James gave her as a get-well-soon present. Maria loved the tiny stickers of flowers and butterflies James stuck on the mirror so they would dance around her cheeks, forehead, and jaw when she gazed at her reflection. It usually made her feel like a princess or a fairy, but not today. All she saw today were her tired and droopy eyes, her ghostly pale face, and her pallid lips that were cracking at the edges. God, what was happening to her? She fought back angry tears as well as the urge to throw the mirror at the nearest wall, wanting her terrible reflection to shatter into myriad of pieces that could not be put back together. She wanted to do that, so badly…but she couldn't. How could she? The mirror was a dear present given to her by James, and she had to stifle a sad laugh. James was never good at choosing the right presents, but he was the sweetest man ever.

The shaft of the mirror contained a small secret compartment that housed Maria's favorite crimson lipstick, the one she always applied before a strip tease or a pole dance in Heaven's Night, but that was all in the past now. She reformed and would never go back to living her sordid life in Silent Hill, the town that still haunted her dreams and torn her asunder. Who would've ever thought a harlet from a hellhole could ever lead a normal life again. Maria was finding it hard to believe it herself, but James gave her the life she had always dreamed of and now she was living it.

A reformed prostitute given a second chance at a normal life, it was truly a dream come true.

But was her dream about to come to an end?

Her perfectly manicured fingernails trembled, causing the lipstick held between her index finger and thumb to rattle as well. With an unsatisfied sigh, Maria dabbed away the residue that stretched beyond her lips and checked her appearance one last time before setting the mirror away from her. Against her pale skin and her dull eyes marred by black rings, her lips looked as if she had just taken a sip from a chalice filled with blood, her blood.

Maria's throat suddenly tightened and she was forced to fight against her body once more, forcing the vile substance crawling up her throat to plunge back into the depths it had originated from. She could taste the bitter poison and her own raw fear in the back of her throat as she rapidly flicked her tongue, trying to push away the venom before it uncorked and spewed uncontrollable spasms. A wave of unrelenting cold spread across her, finding that now was the best time to take advantage of her given her state of vulnerability. For a moment, she thought she was going to collapse as colorful dots danced in her vision before a swarm of inky black threatened to pull her into the darkness where she belonged. She was born from the darkness; perhaps it was time to return to the darkness, back to that…hell.

Like hell I'm gonna go back there!

Using every bit of energy and strength she could muster, Maria forced the sticky substance gnawing at her pharynx out of her system, feeling angry and bitter that she couldn't control her body and lost her fight against it once more. If she couldn't force it down, what else could she do but dispel it by vomiting it out? Luckily, one of her hands caught the gruesome mess of fresh blood zigzagging through yellow and green phlegm, two colors representing infection. She irately slapped her tainted hand against the right side of her bed, wiping the messy mucus over the clean white sheets she had come to detest for they always seemed to be mocking her of how pristine and clean they were compared to Maria, the sick woman the hospital abandoned.

Yeah, how do you like it now, huh? Not so fresh anymore, eh? Don't worry. The stupid nurses will clean you up in due time. They always do.

Maria's satanic peals of laughter rung beautifully in the room, the sound resonating off the four white panels in a seemingly endless game of ping-pong using her voice as the ball. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed. The closest thing holding any semblance to mirth was the forced smiles she gave to James whenever he came to visit, but it was a different story after he left. Maria could not only feel her body dying with each passing day, but her soul as well. She could feel it, something dark was always trying to lash into her to fill her soul with hate and envy, and it was working. She was nothing but a sentient marionette with that…hellish town still operating her strings even though Silent Hill was miles away. She guessed a part of that town must have left with her, or maybe the sinister energy emanating from Silent Hill was beckoning her to come back to the home she belonged in. How could they do such a cruel thing to her? Her home was with James; her love was for James.

Speaking of James, where is he? He's never been this late before.

Her amusement died as her keen ears picked up the first morning song that was being sung by her precious canaries at the window. There was no light entering through her window, but that was ok because there was no sun. She just wished the rain could stop pounding; it was giving her a headache.

Suddenly, she heard a doorknob turning and immediately whirled around with fear evident in her lackluster eyes, expecting to see a nurse who would most likely force her to take those rotten pills again. However, much to her surprise and relief, a sullen James walked in carrying a lovely bouquet of…

Hey, I've never seen those flowers before.

"Umm…" he started, gently kicking the door behind him with his foot. "I got you these…I hope you like them."

James stood ramrod in front of the door, barely moving and almost appearing like a noble soldier waiting to take commands from his superior. His hair was a mess with unruly thick brown locks cascading over his eyes that glanced back and forth between the weak figure on the bed and the vibrant red flowers in his hands.

Such a distinct contrast…the only thing they have in common is…red…

Red…

Maria's full plump lips had always been the most striking feature on her lovely face that was now consumed by fatigue. However, no matter what condition she was in, those perfect lips were always luscious and lively, just waiting to be sucked on.

She put on too much lipstick today to look good for me…but that can only mean one thing…she's not getting any better…

"Well, just don't stand over there, silly. Come here. Sit next to me," Maria giggled at his frozen stature, waving a hand to get his attention.

"Of course, Maria…" James breathed, his voice distant and his body in a trance like state, barely even noticing that his feet started moving on its own without his will.

Maria was relieved that he didn't take a seat on the other side of the bed where the sheets were stained with her shit, to put crudely. She scooted over a bit, offering James enough space at the edge of her tiny bed so he could feel comfortable without having to brace his feet against the floor to prevent him from slipping.

"How are you today, Maria?" James started, unsure of how to initiate the conversation. He asked her that everyday and she always said the same thing to him.

"I'm doing fine, James. You worry too much," she reprimanded jokingly, a hint of amusement flashing in her eyes before disappearing forever into her dull blue pools.

Lies, Maria. All lies. That's what you tell me everyday.

Deciding not to pursue her further knowing that she would clearly keep dodging his questions, James decided to hand her the bouquet, nearly forgetting that it was still in his hands. "Oh! I got you these. I hope you like them."

Maria accepted the bouquet with a bright genuine smile. She loved flowers, especially roses, but these were not roses. Her beautiful lips curved into a frown as she studied the flowers from all angles, wondering what they could be. She was no herbalist or florist, but she was darn good at naming them apart.

"Umm…I'm not sure what kind they are. I just thought they were pretty," James added lamely when he saw her rummaging her fingers tenderly through the petals, studying them keenly. He assumed the flowers didn't fully bloom yet for most of the petals were still leashed in the buds that had a dark vortex of stamens at the core. "Do you-"

"JAMES!!!" Maria suddenly screeched, her voice dripping with an ugly mixture of fire and hatred as she clutched the stems of the flowers with enough force that made all ten of her pale knuckles go even whiter against her naturally alabaster skin.

Before James could even ask what was wrong, he felt a stinging pain whip across his right cheek. The backhand slap left a mark so red that it could rival the color of the flowers and those luscious lips he just wanted to kiss right now, but its fuming owner would never permit it at the moment. James snapped his head back as quickly as it had jerked from the impact of the surprise slap that was teemed with acridity.

"What the hell was that for, Maria?" he demanded angrily as he brought one hand up to touch the abused cheek, absentmindedly relishing how nice the coolness emanating from his hand felt against his hot skin.

"What the hell is wrong with YOU, James!?" she wailed while attempting to stop the tears streaming down her cheeks. God, she hated crying and she hated being weak and she hated the damn rain outside that was making her more distraught inside.

Her heart was beating furiously against her chest, begging to be let out so it can witness the person that was causing the undulating pain. Yes, it wanted to be let out so badly that the thumping erupted into an increasing crescendo that thundered through Maria's ears, the sound almost deafening. In one fluid motion fueled by her adrenaline rush, Maria dug one hand into the bouquet and ripped off a fistful of red petals, sending them flying in all directions. Whispering inaudible curses underneath her breath, she continued until there was not a single petal left on the lonesome stems that also met its untimely end when she easily snapped the thin fragile stalks in half. Now that the flowers were decimated and the stems crushed, a hidden golden card at the root of the bouquet came into view. The words "Get well soon" written in silver boldly stood out against the meek ruins.

Get well my ass.

Unable to defy gravity, the red petals whirled wildly in the damp tense air before settling lifelessly on the floor, bed, windowsill, and any other free areas they could find. Maria's pristine covers looked like blood drenched sheets that covered her open wounds and was in the process of soaking up more crimson. She was almost afraid to lift her blanket for fear that her internal hurt was manifested into something tangible to the senses.

Feeling a tad bit calmer knowing that the petals were left there to rot until they turned a murky green and yellow much like the colors of her phlegm, she tiredly tossed her head against her pillows, feeling drained and annoyed at the same time. She retrieved the card from the remnants of the bouquet and tentatively held it in her hands, unsure of what to do with it at the moment.

"James…" Maria half whispered and half laughed while wondering if she had truly lost her marbles. "James, honey. You got me fucking poppies," she seethed with bitterness through her teeth. After tossing him a cold glare, she reverted her eyes back to the card and opened it. The two measly lines didn't help ease her agony at all.

Maria,

I hope you like the flowers.

"You know, I'm surprised that this card does not say 'Push Up Daisy' anywhere. Or do I have to explain that term to you?"

Surprisingly, she did not scream in rage when she uttered those words. Instead, she stated them with eerie calmness while looking expectantly at James, who remained silent during the entire ordeal. "Well, are you going to answer me, bastard?" Her voice was starting to rise and she could feel the bitterness brewing in the pit of her stomach again. In the blink of an eye, Maria tore the card in her hands into shreds and flung it haphazardly at James, who did not bother to brush away the broken rips off his hair and shoulders.

Silence hung thick in the room, making it almost difficult to breathe in the dank atmosphere. The birds were still chirping happily outside and for a moment Maria wished she had wings like them so she could just fly away and abandon all the problems before her.

Hmm…maybe not a bird, but a butterfly. They're beautiful, graceful, and have wings too.

That thought made her grin inwardly. She sunk her hands beneath the now crimson covers and gently touched her butterfly tattoo printed at her waist, tenderly rubbing the smooth surface of her colorful signature creature. She imagined herself flying off to a flower field filled with fresh roses and perfectly puffy clouds overlooking them in a brilliant blue sky. No rain, no storms, just tranquil clouds floating endlessly after each other, occasionally clashing to form different shapes of puppies, bunnies, and anything else that was cute and cuddly.

"I didn't know…"

How dare that stupid ignorant voice taint her reverie?

"I didn't know…" James stated again with a bit more confidence. Somehow, he had found his voice again amidst Maria's tumult, which rocked the very core of his soul.

Silence.

"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry…"

Silence.

"I think I better go now…" James cast one last look at the stoic Maria before forcing his feet to move towards the door. He was leaving, running.

I'm always running…away from everything.

Maria tore her gaze away from the birds and riveted her eyes on James' back when she heard light footsteps growing fainter with each step away from her bed. His movements were so soft and gentle that it almost seemed as if he was walking on blood.

Damn him for leaving. Damn him for always leaving her behind.

Her body shuddered violently, not from anger or the need to cough (Thank God!), but from pure sadness. Did he not love her like the way she loved him? No, that couldn't be it or else he wouldn't have asked her to live with him, or tell her how much he needed her everyday, or make love to her almost every night. They've been together through thick and thin for the past two years and now a misunderstanding was tearing them apart.

He was never good at choosing the right presents…

"James!! Wait!"

I need him. I'll always need him.

Stunned and perplexed, James turned around, unsure if he had heard right or if his senses were deluding him like they have done so many times before. Maria held her arms wide opened, inviting him into her embrace with fresh tears trickling down her cheeks and over those beautiful lips.

"Maria…" he began, timidly taking hesitant steps back to the bed, idly kicking away the petals in his path as he did so.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have snapped like that," Maria cried, almost pitifully for James' ears. She let out a sigh of contentment when she felt the weight of her bed shifting as he sat beside her, his eyes betraying guilt and shame beneath the thick brown veil of hair.

"I really didn't know. The gift shop in the hospital was selling them and…I thought they looked nice. I get you roses every time…so I wanted something different…today…"

What kind of a sick hospital would sell poppies? What kind of a place is this!? Maria's mind raged as her clean hand clung on to James' neck, almost terrified of letting him go. If he had to leave, she wanted him to take her with him. She had to get out of here, now.

"Don't leave me alone here, James. Please…I wanna go back home," she whispered, her voice weak and scared like a child abandoned in the dark. "I…I wanna be like a butterfly and just fly out of this place. Please help me, James," she continued, revealing to him her personal precious daydream she was absorbed in minutes ago.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sunderland, there's nothing more we can do for her here."

"What the hell do you mean there's nothing more you can do. You're a fucking doctor! You're suppose to heal people so heal her!"

"I know, Maria. I want to take you back home, so badly…"

"I'm sorry, her illness is very serious and I'm afraid…"

"So do it, James! Set me free from this prison, from this pain…"

"What? What is it? Damnit, look me in the eye and tell me what's wrong with Maria!!"

"Maria…it's not that simple. I…"

"There's no easy way of saying this, Mr. Sunderland. Your friend-"

"James, I love you. Don't you love me?"

"My love."

"Of course I do, Maria…I love you so much…"

"Your love…is not going to get better. In fact, she's only going to get worse each day. I know she is suffering but the medications are not working. The pain will progressively become worse each day…until…"

"Then get me out of here…I wanna go…"

"Until what?"

"I…"

"Until she dies..."

She lurched forward, abruptly sealing his words with a kiss that made James shudder as he hungrily explored her mouth with his tongue, taking in the bitter aftertaste of her ineffective tonics. He wanted this, he wanted this so badly and her lips had never felt so good and alive against his own. They still tasted sweet as ever even though the metallic hint of uninvited blood defiled her flesh, attempting to push James away by disgusting him. Unfortunately, James had seen much more blood in his life than that weak trickle leaking from the cracked skin in the corner of Maria's mouth. She had never kissed him so ardently. He usually sensed lust from her kisses and occasionally an emotion bordering on the fine line between love and desire, but this was completely different and foreign to him. She brought up her clean hand and gently stroked his cheek, taking notice that he hadn't shaved for awhile. The stubbles pricked her finger, but felt wonderful at the same time. God, she missed him.

James placed a tender hand behind Maria's head, guiding her back against the soft pillows. He continued greedily sucking on her lips, knowing that this would be the last time he would ever feel them beside his mouth

Damn you Mary, you're a real bitch, you know?

It happened so fast. Everything happened so fast.

Hearing her desperate screams pained him, but he knew those screams would only become worse if she lived up to the pinnacle of her sickness. She was suffering inside and he was suffering outside. This was the only way to put an end to…everything.

Mary, how could you? You still don't forgive me, do you?

He watched Maria's hand flail wildly underneath his weight, her muffled voice begging him to stop the torture. He wanted to stop at that instant, but stopping now would only prolong the inevitable. But her voice…her frantic pleas that were drilling incessantly into his ears and heart…they were…

They were just like yours, Mary…

And then it stopped. Everything stopped. He stopped pressing. Her hands stopped moving. She stopped breathing. The birds stopped singing. The rain stopped hammering.

Deadly silence filled the room.

Ten seconds…and she was gone. Ten seconds was all it took…

Are you happy now, Mary? You better be, you damn bitch. You've…you've taken away everything.

Removing the pillow from Maria's placate face, James placed one last kiss on those alluring red lips he'll never witness again. The kiss was hollow, empty, void of any emotions.

The clouds parted and warm sunlight streamed into the ghastly room, banishing the darkness in all corners.

"You're free, Maria. Fly away…"

-End

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Author's Notes: This is based on one of the endings in Silent Hill II where James leaves with Maria, but you'll notice that Maria was coughing when she walked towards the car. I interpreted this scene as Mary still holding a grudge over James, therefore causing Maria to undergo the same fate that had befallen on her. Of course you can also see it as James repenting for his sins by taking better care of Maria than he did with Mary, therefore preventing Maria from undergoing Mary's fate, but hey, I was feeling pessimistic so I didn't go with the latter. I hope this was somewhat enjoyable and feel free to leave me a comment or critique if you wish. Thanks for reading!

Oh, by the way, poppies symbolize death (just in case you were wondering).