Walking past a car were two butterfly horses. They were small, insect small, with mignon wings. Next to it, were two more. One was older with blue-grey and teal wings; the other was younger and a honey color with coral and yellow wings. They were arguing, and suddenly the older one started kicking at the younger. The younger let out frantic neighs and cowered in fright, blood starting to fall. The previous two that had been walking by hurried over and separated the two, trying to calm them down. When they did, they got them in the car to go home. The honey colored horse heard one say, "Who would do such a thing?" The grey horse heard it too, and knew that they'd see him hurting his son, Shiend.
The son and father were in human form and sitting in the car. The father was driving and the son was staring out the window in shotgun; refusing to look at his father's face. "You don't care about me at all," the son said suddenly.
Tears threatened to some out in the father's eyes. "But I miss her every day."
A/N: June 15, 2012
This is a dream or something I thought up of several years ago. I'd found the paper I'd written it on a few days ago. When I read it, I was like, "Oh my God, what does my brain think! Why would it think of this?" Though seriously, it was butterfly horses.
If you didn't understand this, basically the wife/mother of this family died. The father and son's lives then spiraled down.
To be honest, this reminds me of my own life.