The rain had been falling heavily across Easton. It washed away the pool of blood on the land that used to be occupied by innocent people. The same land in which a woman was being chased away, to be murdered in the name of a witch. It turned out that the woman survived but hundred of innocent lives had been taken away.
It was all her fault. They thought.
For a decade, the survivors of the land had been silent. Their mouths were sealed. They were forbidden to utter a word of what happen that night, believing ill omen would fall upon them.
However, for the past few months the land had been back to life. The school were built for children. How nice and thoughtful they were, using the purity of children's souls to achieve their goals.
What an evil.
The woman they had tried to murder was the woman who attempted to save the children. She was now laying on the ground helplessly. Her breath was shallow. Her white eyes stared blankly to the dark sky. Hopelessly.
She was dying. She knew that. Would she be able to save herself like she did many time before? She did not think so.
Her time was up.
Knowing that, she smiled mischievously.
"Mosley," said a brittle voice of an old man to the dying woman.
The woman turned her head slightly towards the voice. She let out a weak laugh as she saw the man's face, crinkling in sadness. How ironic. She thought, that the person she would see for the last time, was her own blood that she had abandoned for a very long time.
"You're just in time." Mosley remarked softly.
"I cannot help my self but to come here." He confessed. "What should I do now?"
"I thought you'd be happy knowing that I'll gone." She said bitterly.
He was silent. She was right; he had hoped she would be gone from his life. But not like this, when everything she had done was to make everything right. Would she come back to life like before? He wondered.
"I never hate you." The man said under his breath. "I never did. You're still my mother, regardless of what you did to me. It was for my safety and I believe that."
The woman laughed forcefully, until she chocked and cough the blood out of her mouth. Her chest was tightening. She was suffocating.
For a brief moment, her eyes went to look up to the man who had teary eyes. She smirked, knowing that what he said was true.
She wanted to say something to him. Something that could comfort him for the last time. Something that she had stopped telling him since she made him an orphan. But she could not do that. She had no energy to say anything to him, not even for the last time.
Tears running down on his wrinkle cheeks, along with the rain. He still had the memories of his childhood with the woman. Memories that he would forever cherish. Memories of a loving mother he had for thirteen years of his life.
He loved her. He believed she loved him too. He could see it now in her white eyes. The eyes that used to look at him with love.
In her last few seconds, Mosley's memories suddenly rushed to her glorious time as a person. She could not see nothing but the past of her life that, somehow, brought solace to her death. A clear moving pictures of happiness.
A smiled was plastered on her pale skinny face.
Suddenly, her body began to shrink and her skin turned to decay, as she turned into whole skeleton. Her eyes turned hollow. She was now gone. Her soul had made a journey to the past, where she was once loved and whole.
***
There was a time when everyone lived peacefully regardless of what they were capable of. There was a time when creatures with strange but unique abilities were respected and appreciated. There was a time when the word "fairy" was mentioned without fear but proud.
That was the time when a young girl whose hair was silver, lived happily with her loving family in one of the towns of Fairfield.
It was a century and a half ago. When the good times of fairies in the land was about to end.
"Mother! Mother! I caught a butterfly!" Exclaimed the girl with full of enthusiasm, running into the kitchen, holding a glass jar that had a red butterfly inside of it. "Look, Mother!"
The girl held the jar up for her mother, who was setting up the table for lunch, so she could see it better.
"Oh, poor thing!" Cried her mother, her blue eyes looked at the butterfly sympathetically. "You should let it fly free, Mosley."
"But Father said I could catch it." Said the girl, pouting her red small lips as her mother's response was not exactly what she expected.
Mosley had spent her time, chasing the butterfly in the meadow with her father, running here and there to finally catch it and trap it inside the jar. She expected that she would be praised by her mother, just like how her father praised her in the meadow.
The girl knew that her mother loved all of the animals and believed that they had to live free. However, Mosley was obsessed with the red butterfly that flew around the meadow, landing from one flower to another. She was, for some unknown reason, jealous of the freedom that the butterfly had. Yet, it made her want to posses it. The feeling of owning something that was free, excited her, giving her a feeling of superiority.
But her mother was going to change that.
Her mother, Ellen, lifted both of her hands to both side of her temple, massaging them as she shook her head slightly.
"I'll tell your father not to do that. We cannot keep any living souls like that. They need to be free, my dear." She explained softly to her daughter, lowering herself to the child's level as she took the jar away from the girl. "Just like us, we need to be free."
The girl's pout was getting more petulant. Her grey eyes were brooding over the jar of the butterfly she caught in the meadow with her father.
Looking at the girl's sullen expression, her mother sighed loudly. "You can still play with it but you need to let it go. I'm sure the butterfly would appreciate you more when you hold it free, Mosley."
"It will run away from me." She mumbled.
"I don't think so. Shall we have a look of what's going to happen once you set it free?" Her mother placed her hands on the jar: one hand held the jar from the bottom and the other hold the lid tightly, getting ready to stir it to the right hand side to open it.
Mosley's eyes got widened in fear. "No, Mother!" She squealed. "It'll run away!"
Her mother chuckled lowly. "We'll see, my dear." Without any hesitation, she opened the jar and flew the red butterfly out of the jar.
The girl got her mouth wide open when she witnessed her mother set the butterfly free — the butterfly she had caught with a lot of efforts.
Ellen beamed with pleasure.
"Don't worry, my dear. What you have set free would come around, if it really belongs to you." Explained her mother. A proud smile was on her face as she brought her broken-hearted girl into her embrace. "You will see, Mosley."
"What if it never came back?" Asked Mosley. Her eyes began to be flooded by tears, blurring her vision.
"Then it's not yours." Ellen replied simply. Her thumbs ran on Mosley's cheeks to wipe the tears away. "However, you'll get something else. Something better."
The girl shook her head and stormed away from her mother, running towards the stairs that led her to her bedroom.