Free From The Mistake
All Butch ever wanted was peace and freedom from this life. Was that too hard to ask for? As a nerd being dragged into a gang and everything going out of hand? Apparently it is.
Squeals of girls ricocheted off the pure white walls of Townsville Academy as he walked with his uniform and blazer hanging off his shoulder. Unbelievable for a nerdy kid like Butch Jojo to blend in with the bad boy stereotype. With a single hand, he brushed his dyed dark brown locks behind.
He sighed. It was a day with control c and control v again. Butch did not truly deserve this.
"In here," a voice spoke, pulling his arm and dragged the boy inside. The girl, known as Buttercup Utonium, smiled her pearly whites and shut the door. She stared at Butch as her smile dissipated. "You seriously need security." Buttercup snapped her fingers.
Butch rolled his eyes. "Thank you for saving me at least. Also, it's not like the Rowdyruff Boys comes every day of the week." Buttercup playfully punched his toned arm. Butch's eyes roamed the spacious room. "Nice music room, I got to say." The girl scanned the room, nodding in approval.
As they walked further into the room, an old and dusty piano was found sitting in the corner. The both of them exchanged glances before running to play it. Joyful and laughter scattered in the empty air.
Little did Butch knew the clock was ticking.
By the time when the sky turned a prepossessing orange and pink, Butch made his way to the Rowdyruff's hideout which was in a tranquil forest.
He muttered to himself, "At least I didn't get lost this time." Dry leaves and sticks cracked under his Converse high tops. A two-story building came into view. Butch's pace started to pick up.
Why am I doing this? I'm not—
His thought immediately got cut off as a strong arm caught Butch's head in a headlock. "You're a minute late," he spoke. Butch tried to wriggle his way out, but to his dismay, the poor guy could not.
The guy whose name is Brick, let him free and watches Butch dust his clothes off. Brick's nose crinkled of disgust. "You know we have to carry out the drugs at seven sharp, right?" He leaned back on the tree with his hands dug in his jean pockets.
From the corner of his eye, Butch saw Brick's auburn hair ruffled slightly from the soft wind. "I know, Brick. It was orders from the boss anyways." All of a sudden, Butch felt uneasy. He shook it off and spoke, "So, what now?" Brick shrugged his shoulders.
The auburn-haired boy stared at the dirt and grass, kicking the pebbles with the top of his shoe. "How should I know?" he mumbled carefreely. "Go play with that girl of yours, Butterbutt or whatever." His eyes were so fixated on the ground, Brick didn't notice that Butch's presence was not there.
Two dark shadows slipped into the eerie abandoned warehouse. The area did not have much light and it was easier for the carry-out to happen at this place and at this time. For the cons, it was a bit pitch black.
Butch followed Brick behind like a lost puppy. As soon as Brick gave the signal which was a peace sign to tell it was all clear, Butch huddled near him as he spoke, "Listen on what I have to say: grab those duffel bags on the second floor of the warehouse, get as many as your arms can carry, and run as fast as you can out of here before anyone notices you. I'll be out here standing guard for anything that happens. Got it?" Butch nodded and scampered in through the front door.
In the faintly illuminated space, Butch could barely see where he is going. He tripped a couple times over himself, but managed to find the steps. Gripping the handrail to see, Butch made it to the second floor where not much things could be found. Thanks to the huge window with moonlight helping a bit, Butch could see where the duffel bags are. Stuffed in a corner, piled up two against another. He rushed over to it.
Muttering "finally", the muscular boy grabbed as many as he could as instructed by his peer. Once he got one last one, yells and strings of curses were heard outside the building. Blinking in confusion, Butch walked down the stairs casually until dark silhouettes were found with flashlights. Gulping, he found a hiding place which was behind stacked sandbags.
"Put your hands up to where we can see them!" one yelled, voice echoing throughout. From the corner of his eye, he could see the flashlight inching closer and closer to him. He shut his eyes, wanting not to be found instantly.
"Hey, we found the culprit!"
"Do something about it, man! Don't just stand there!"
As if it as his cue to escape, he immediately stood and ran all his might, but everything then went all black.
His eyes were hesitant to open. Everything was spinning around, Once Butch gained his consciousness, a brown ceiling stared right back at him. Turning his head to the side, he could see a huge gap in the concrete wall with large steel bars to cover it up. Nothing but enormous watchtowers and high barbed wire fences surrounding the area.
Slowly getting up, Butch's head throbbed in pain. While crawling to the corner of the small room, he curled up into fetal position. Thoughts ran through his mind, one after another. Why did his life turn out this way? Brick got shot and Butch got thrown in a dirty cell. What else could happen? Would Buttercup loathe him?
He rested his forehead on his knees and deeply sighed, cursing himself for being so stupid. The boy absolutely did not want to join the Rowdyruff Boys in the first place, so why did he even?
"Butch! Butch Jojo!" cried a voice. Lifting his head up, Butch straightaway scanned the room for the source of the voice. As he did, he directly locked gazes with Buttercup. Her eyes were glassy and porcelain cheeks stained wet. He hurried to stand, but ended up stumbling over himself once again. Finally he came face-to-face with Buttercup, grasping the metal bars in front for support. Buttercup started to speak, only ended up hiccuping, "You…" She was dumbstruck to see her friend in this dark place, seeming like a broken child who was purposely in there for no reason. Her heart clenched at the thought of that.
Butch searched her pale green eyes. "Butters, I can explain—" As her hand came up to stop him from talking any more, he furrowed his brows in confusion.
"No need," she said shakily, avoiding his gaze. Buttercup's hand limply fell to her side. "You should have left them when you had the chance, Butch. I told you they were bad news, yet you did not believe me. For an intelligent person, you are quite gullible and empty-headed. Did you not realize that? Where did the old Butch Jojo go and what did you do to him? Obviously he would not do this kind of work," she hissed, tears threatening to fall. "You became so naïve and fell into their trap. Don't ever talk to me again." With that, she spun on her heel and left. Butch watched as her silhouette faded away.
He stood there looking like an imbecile. Licking his dry lips, Butch never actually contemplated Buttercup's point of view. Now that she officially was gone, for the first time in his life he didn't know what to do specifically. It felt like she was the missing piece to his puzzle.
Butch let out a breath and shut his eyes, whispering to nothing but thin air, "I pity myself, Buttercup. I'm sorry for hurting you. Forgive me please." A wave of numbness washed over him, making Butch hold his head in pain twice. In a blink of an eye, his body met the chilly floor.
As the blinding white light came into view, a stable beeping noise is heard. With a groan, Butch turned over to see a monitor as well as an IV hooked to his arm. He wondered where he was and how he ended up there. All that matters is Buttercup's whereabouts.
He shot up from the bed, alerting the nurse next to him who was checking his vitals to look at the patient. Butch turned to her in a frenzy, "Where am I?" The nurse placed her clipboard on the stand next to his bed and placed her cold hands on his shoulders, gently placing him back on the bed.
"Don't panic Butch, you're in the hospital," she replied, picking up the clipboard again.
"Why?" he blinked, bemused.
"Supposedly you have a tumor growing excessively throughout your body." He stared at her in shock, shaking a bit. Butch was taken aback by the sudden news. Gaping at the unadorned white ceiling with no emotion running through his face, the door to his room slid open.
There stood a woman in her late forties and tears were flowing down her pale cheeks. Butch rose his head to see his crying mother in which he has not seen in a long while. The nurse assisted him to sit up and led the woman next to his bed, offering her a chair. She nodded gratefully as the nurse bowed at her later then left for the two to have some privacy.
Butch met eye contact with his mother, placing his hand on top of her small and feeble hand which was lying on top of the covers. With his free hand, he wiped away her tears with his thumb. "Mom, please do not worry. I am still healthy. See?" Butch moved his arms in a wacky way in order for her to laugh at least. In fact, it did work.
Her face had slight wrinkles, but still appeared youthful in many ways. As well as her hair had not much gray strands. "My poor baby," she pulled him into a hug as if it would be the last time she would have seen him. Patting him on the back, Butch felt his own eyes begin to water. Not seeing his mother in so many years wounded his heart. He yearned for her love and care ever since his father passed from heart disease when Butch was young.
The mother, known as Butterfly, pulled away from him and rubbed soothing circles on his back. "Butch," Butterfly gently whispered. "You won't end up like your father. Believe me, you will get through this obstacle." Butch pressed his lips together and forced the tears to stay in his sockets. He could not stand the stabbing pain in his chest.
"Mom, if I die… tell Buttercup my feelings for her." Butch laid back on the comfortable bed, deliberating over his life without sparing a glance for Butterfly.
Butterfly understood what her son was going through, but she could not accept the fact that Butch was going to pass on early when he has a lot more things to do in his life. She deeply sighed and rose to her feet, catching the attention of the boy. Butch got a glimpse of her change of aura which was now melancholy. She no more demanded for company, Butterfly knew her family was falling to pieces with these illnesses being passed down.
Butch's eyes trailed behind her back physique and apprehended the sound of the door being secured. Butch could feel himself not being able to breathe properly. Reaching behind to find the nurse's call button, he succeeded and his hand drooped to the side.
Buttercup ran all her might to the hospital Butch's staying in. The rain pelted her clothes and hair. She never knew that Butch was sick. She muttered a few curse words under her breath and sprinted into the entrance.
As she made her way to the third floor, Buttercup spotted Butterfly sobbing into her hands. Her legs almost gave out and dragged herself as if the hallway was going infinitely. Buttercup's chest swelled in agony. This was torture to her.
"Butch, you liar. You never told me," muttered the girl. She approached Butterfly and put a gentle hand on her shoulder as the large glass window in front of her showed doctors and nurses surrounding Butch's body. Time seemed like it went in slow motion. Butterfly turned to face her and enveloped Buttercup. She did not bother with the wet clothes at all, all she wanted was someone by her side.
Watching from the other side, she could only see what was happening. Butch laid there motionless while the doctors shook their head at each other. Buttercup already thought what they were talking about.
Buttercup completely knew how the mother felt. Seeing how someone so dear and close to them passing away so fast can really hurt that person. Buttercup bit her lip to the point where it bled as a thought ran past. Butterfly's soft cries embodied the silent hallway. The younger could feel the walls close in on her. It suffocated her to the point where a mental breakdown appears out of nowhere.
"Buttercup…," the elder spoke with prudence. "My son told me that when he finally goes to Heaven, he wanted you to know that he loves you with all his heart; not as a friend, but more than that. Butch doesn't show it physically, but he secretly wishes for you to notice. Right now, he wants you to continue your life without him by your side." Buttercup's jaw dropped. Neither did she acknowledged that. The way Butch did all those small things just for her attention crushed her mentally.
As if it was a natural instinct, Buttercup's hands extracted Butterfly's arms from her waist and took a step back. She felt as if she was going to faint any second and she felt like someone was squeezing the life out of her. Buttercup promptly left the suffocating halls and went into the hospital's courtyard. She took in a deep breath and the urge to faint diminished.
Buttercup took a seat near one of the trees and felt the breeze on her skin. She shut her eyes and heard a familiar voice whisper in her ear. Jolting, her eyes reopened and scrutinized the place. No one was in the area, to her surprise. Goosebumps ran along her skin. Was she going crazy? Shaking her head furiously, she grabbed her hair and mumbled incoherent words.
Hyperventilating, the voice whispered in her head again. "This cannot be happening," muttered the girl. To her dismay, fingers snapped in front of her. Gulping in terror, she knew whose fingers they belonged to.
Butch Jojo.
In the next week was Butch's funeral. Moments of silence passed by, his friends and family hung their heads in sole sadness. Butterfly spoke with no hesitation into the mic and gave her speech on how depressing it was to lose her only son. Sure she cracked a few jokes here and there, but it was clear on that her demeanor seemed sorrowful.
On the other hand, Buttercup sat in the compact crowd of non-familiar faces. A certain auburn-haired boy waltzed in and plopped to the seat next to her without any difficulty. Tears scrolled down her face and once she raised her fingertips to wipe it away, a handkerchief appeared. She sniffled and rotated her face to the right whom the arm is attached to. "Grab it. It looks like you need it more than I do," he spoke in a calm manner. Brick took a firm grip of her hands and placed it in her palm. She nodded once as a thank you and awkwardly cleaned her face while trying to ignore his piercing eyes.
As the ceremony ends, Buttercup bumped into Brick again. She quickly apologized and bowed ninety degrees, but he only laughed in amusement. "Please don't bow and stand up straight." Buttercup grasps the handkerchief from behind her back and smiled at Brick.
The wind blew in both their directions, with Butch's voice echoing in their heads:
"At last, I'm free…"