This is just a short version of a Scream of the Butterfly by Acid Bath songfic from third point of view around Keta, my OC. R&R please.
A creature made of sunshine
Her eyes were like the sky
A little girl with multicolored hair looks upwards at the full moon. Her Papa should be home soon. She's terrified, don't you know. If he doesn't come home, her mama will hurt her again. She shivers but not from the cold or her fear. She relishes the pain for the blood she receives.
The blood she craves.
Rabbit howls like something old as we twitch to her lullaby
She cries out in pain. Her papa didn't come. He's too far away. She screams again, the pain blocking out everything else. Normally, she'd be 'dead' by now. Her screams playing through her mind like a demon's favorite song.
Her mother's favorite song.
The scalpel shines in god's sunshine
Street lights whisper pain
The blade cuts in deeper again and again. The girl wails and screams for it to end. She glances at the blade shining with her crimson fluids. It's a pain she's come to know very well. She seems to trust it, because it'll always be there…
to remind her she's still alive
Down here near the poison stream our god has gone insane
Her wails cut into the endless night, sending shivers down the backs of her live givers as the cry and storms rage with their saddened emotions. They weep for her. They are not her parents, although they with they could be. Then they could take her away.
If only they could.
She smiles like a child with flowers in her hair
She giggles. "Mura! Let's play outside!" the girl laughs louder as her cousin leads her to the giant chess-board. She sits atop one of the giant stone horses that move by magic.
And the lunarflowers in the garden bloom with her smiles.
With blood on her hands
Her mother's mad again. The little girl cut her hands on a kitchen knife. She didn't mean to.
She never means to.
into the sun she stares
She feels it die, I heard her cry (verse x2)
Her face is bruised and it hurts. It heals just as it alwas has. Mama doesn't want her father to know. She stares up at the setting sun; she cannot sleep. She's too afraid. If only it could end. But she knows it must one day. She knows.
But why her?
Like the scream of the butterfly