literature

MyM: Butterflies in the Attic

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MyM: Butterflies in the Attic

“Hey Dad, do you know where all of Mom’s old textbooks from university are?” Cassie asked as she entered her father’s office. Ace had been asking a lot of questions about the history of Cassie’s world and she thought some of her mother’s old textbooks could help him out since Cassie wasn’t the best when it came to history. Besides, Cassie didn’t really want to cover some of the topics because how could she explain it to Ace when she didn’t understand it herself.

“Why do you want to know?” her father asked as he looked up from one of the summer essays that he was marking.

“I just wanted to read them, that’s all,” Cassie replied, staring at her feet. She felt bad about lying to her dad but she couldn’t tell him the truth.

“I didn’t know you were interested in history,” he smiled.

“Well, I...I just wanted to see if I had an interest in it...” she replied, “But anyway, where would they be?”

“Well, most of your mother’s stuff is in the attic so they are probably up there somewhere,” he replied, his eyes downcast as he spoke.

“Great, thanks!” Cassie replied as she left her father’s office and made her way to the end of the hallway. She looked up at the door in the ceiling and frowned. She hated the attic; it was so dark and creepy. She slowly reached up and grabbed the string that hung from the door. She gave a gently pull and the door open, revealing a set of stairs. Cassie slowly walks up the stairs and walks up into the attic.

The attic was dark, the only light coming from a small hexagon shape window at the opposite end of the room. The room was filled with boxes and trunks, covered in years of dust.

“Now, if I were a history book, where would I be?” she asked herself as she open up the first box she saw to only find some of her old baby clothes. “Dad really should have labelled these boxes.”

Cassie spent the rest of the afternoon looking through the boxes until she accidently cause a small, dusty box to fall from a stack of boxes. She picked up the small box and dusted it off. The small box looked like a memory box, powder blue and decorated with gold butterflies; Cassie knew right away that the box had been her mother.

Cassie hesitated for a moment before she opened the box. A bright smile appeared on her face when she saw what was inside. There were tonnes of hair clips, all butterflies in different colours, shapes, sizes, and styles. “Wow, these are beautiful,” she replied as she picked up a pink and gold clip.

She suddenly forgot what she was looking for and left the attic with the small box filled with hair clip. She entered her father’s office once more, this time carrying the box. “Hey Dad, can I use these?” she asked.

Her father looked up and smiled sadly when he saw the box. “Your mother’s hair clips?” he asked. He paused for a few moments before he nodded. “Of course, she would want you to have them but can I see the box first?”
“Umm...sure?” Cassie passed her father the box.

He opened the box and began to dig through it. After a few minutes of searching, he pulled out a red enamel and bronze butterfly clip. “Would you mind if I kept this one?” he asked as her handed her back the box.

“Not at all, go ahead,” she replied with a slightly puzzled look on her face. She took the box back from her father. “Why that one?”

“You mother was wearing it the very first time I met her,” he smiled sadly, as he gently laid the clip down on his desk.

Cassie smiled softly and slowly turned to leave to allow her father time alone with his thoughts.

“You know, Cassie, there wasn’t a day in university, that I can remember, that your mother didn’t wear one of those hair clips,” he smiled softly.

“Really?” she stopped in her tracks.

He nodded. “She loved butterflies.”

“I know,” Cassie smiled as she pointed to the gold pendant around her neck; the pendant was a gold circle with a butterfly engraved in it. “This was Mom’s pendant and I wear it every day; I have been wearing it since I was five. I should know that she loved butterflies.”

Her father smiled softly as he looked back at the paper he was marking. Cassie knew that the moment she left, her father would shift his attention to the butterfly clip and the picture of her mother on his desk. “Oh, Cassie, did you find the textbooks you were looking for?”

“No,” Cassie replied as she stood at the doorway. “The butterflies were enough.”
I decided that I needed to post something because I haven’t in months. I have a few MyM things on the go but this was a quick, easy, and cute story that I have been wanting to write for a while. 

This story explains a few things about Cassie especially why there are going to be a lot more butterflies in her outfits. My reasoning goes something like this: "Butterflies=girly; girly=Cassie; hence, butterflies=Cassie"

:iconmeetyourmonster:

Cassie and Ace: fav.me/d4tfwh2

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Delusiah's avatar
D'awww!!! ;w; Quit pulling my heart strings.