Musings of the Butterfly
Pity
Author's note: this is written like a butterfly telling stories, not necessarily the butterflies point of view. This particular story is from Molly's point of view. It is set in the castle, when Amalthea begins to forget who she is and about what Molly is feeling.
I feel like the butterfly from The Last Unicorn, full of song and rhymes, but none of it makes sense. So this is why I write, so thoughts, songs, rhymes and riddles are organized. And that is why I'm writing this, I am a butterfly. So don't listen to me, listen.
Her eyes are transparent, and her skin is such a pale white. She is slowly forgetting who she is. I see it, I see it all. Prince Leer thinks he loves her, but he does not know her. What she truly is.
'Amalthea, please listen to me,' I beg.
'Molly we have talked of this many times. Why must we again?' she says.
She doesn't remember how can I make her remember, I open my mouth to speak yet I am cut off. Schmendrick billowed into the room smiling, he is always so happy with himself. He doesn't realize the damage her has done.
Anger boils in my veins and I grab the pot closest to me and lunge it at his head. It hits the side of his head, blood streams down from the wound. Good.
'What was that about?' he asks grabbed a towel and placing it on the wound.
'You've killed her and her kind,' I storm from the room. I want to hate him, I do. It is entirely fault and yet. my love for him is so strong I cannot be to angry. No it is not anger I feel, but pity. Pity for both of them, her because she will soon forget all that had been so good. And pity for him because he is too blind to see the mistakes he has made.
Pity
Author's note: this is written like a butterfly telling stories, not necessarily the butterflies point of view. This particular story is from Molly's point of view. It is set in the castle, when Amalthea begins to forget who she is and about what Molly is feeling.
I feel like the butterfly from The Last Unicorn, full of song and rhymes, but none of it makes sense. So this is why I write, so thoughts, songs, rhymes and riddles are organized. And that is why I'm writing this, I am a butterfly. So don't listen to me, listen.
Her eyes are transparent, and her skin is such a pale white. She is slowly forgetting who she is. I see it, I see it all. Prince Leer thinks he loves her, but he does not know her. What she truly is.
'Amalthea, please listen to me,' I beg.
'Molly we have talked of this many times. Why must we again?' she says.
She doesn't remember how can I make her remember, I open my mouth to speak yet I am cut off. Schmendrick billowed into the room smiling, he is always so happy with himself. He doesn't realize the damage her has done.
Anger boils in my veins and I grab the pot closest to me and lunge it at his head. It hits the side of his head, blood streams down from the wound. Good.
'What was that about?' he asks grabbed a towel and placing it on the wound.
'You've killed her and her kind,' I storm from the room. I want to hate him, I do. It is entirely fault and yet. my love for him is so strong I cannot be to angry. No it is not anger I feel, but pity. Pity for both of them, her because she will soon forget all that had been so good. And pity for him because he is too blind to see the mistakes he has made.