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That’s why I love going to the hidden part of the forest. It’s my escape, a place where I can be with myself, away from the other children and the noise of the orphanage. Out there, I don’t have to pretend or worry about being forgotten again. The trees don’t judge, and the quiet feels like a comforting embrace. It’s the only place where I feel a sense of peace, where I can breathe without the weight of everything pressing down on me.
It has been three days since I ran into her at the party, and she has been wearing it ever since.
It’s crazy how little you accumulate when nothing really belongs to you.
I can’t help but think of Camila. It’s funny—I used to see butterflies all the time. They’d flutter around the garden in the summer like little pieces of the sun. But since she left, it’s as if the butterflies disappeared too.
Butterflies are supposed to symbolize rebirth. But what happens when they’re gone?
I have a new life to find, and with it, Camila. She’s out there somewhere, and now that I’m free, I’ll find her. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the butterflies again too.
When I’m surrounded by images of brutality and violence, I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to step into the mind of the killer. To truly understand the darkness, would I need to embrace it myself?
“You’re not what I expected,” she remarks casually, her voice a velvet whisper. “You’re even better.”
“You do look really pretty in the mornings, though,”
Valeria struggles against my grip, but I’m not letting her go. I love seeing her at my mercy.
“Fuck, princesa. You’re going to be the reason for a hundred deaths once I get a taste of you,”
It’s right then that I realize Valeria has to be mine.
“I’m showing you what it means to mess with someone like me, princesa.” She sucks my clit, swirling her tongue, and my knees buckle. “To fight someone like me,” she adds, pushing the kubotan stick further into my pussy. “To fuck someone like me.”
But I don’t feel scared around Verónica. On the contrary—I’m the most alive I’ve ever felt.
“Taste yourself, princesa,”
“I’m selfish and want to enjoy the taste of your pretty cunt for the rest of the night.”
“I love it when you say my name, princesa.”
For the first time in my life, I understand what it feels like to be depraved.
I lose myself in drawing like I always do, letting the familiar motion of my pencil on paper soothe me. Butterflies fill the pages. I can’t help it—they remind me of her. We often used to talk about them, how free they were, how weightless. Drawing them makes me feel close to her, even though we’re worlds apart now.
A small, fluttering movement catches my attention, and I slowly open my eyes. A monarch butterfly floats down from the dark sky, its orange-and-black wings illuminated by the moonlight. It’s surreal, like something out of a dream. I watch, mesmerized, as it drifts closer, landing delicately on my knuckle, its wings fanning out, soft as silk against my skin. For a moment, the world seems to still, and a strange, quiet peace washes over me. My breath steadies, the tears slowing. I shut my lids again. This time, it’s not out of pain, but something gentler. For just a moment, I feel okay.
“Ride me, princesa,” she orders, her voice dark with desire. “Put your soaking cunt on mine and make me come again.” She grabs my still-wet fingers, pulling them into her mouth, slowly sucking and licking them clean. “Use me to get off. Show me what a good little slut you are.”
“Eyes open, butterfly,” Ronnie says, her voice commanding. “I want to see them roll back when you come for me, as I steal all the air you breathe.”
I NEED HER SO BAD
“Do you feel it?” Ronnie says. “It’s like the stars waited for us—like every scar, every broken piece, was leading us to this point.”
“Mors tua, vita mea,” she murmurs, her eyes burning into mine. “Your death, my life. But it was never about death, was it? It was always life. You gave me life, Valeria. Even when they tried to take it from me, I held on because somewhere, deep down, I knew you were out there, waiting for me.”
“Yes, stalking you. You might see it as an invasion of privacy, but deep down, I know you get a twisted thrill knowing someone had eyes on you, especially when you were alone, humping your pillows like a filthy fucking girl.” I tug harder on her hair. “I’ll never stop watching you, butterfly. Not in this lifetime.”
