Bleach Butterfly Mga Nobela at Kwento

There were at least a hundred butterflies, all different colors and sizes, flitting about in the sanctuary. “Let’s sit,” I whispered to Belle and Billy. “Look, there’s a bench. We can watch the butterflies from there.” They both nodded, transfixed by the butterflies. I led them over the bench, their eyes never leaving the sanctuary. They licked their ice cream cones and watched the butterflies, completely mesmerized. I licked my pistachio ice cream and thought about the jewelry competition. Hazel was thrilled we’d been invited to the action. But I was disappointed. I wanted to compete, not attend as a buyer.

She tugged on Blue’s sleeve as he was folding clothes scattered on the bed. “What?” Blue asked. “Look,” Katleya said, showing him. When Blue saw it, he burst into laughter. He had accidentally bought her a T-back with a butterfly design.

But for Alex, he automatically knew who it was as he immediately recognized his white hoodie that got splattered with paint in the colors of the rainbow. He scrolled up and as the caption, he simply had a blue heart emoji. "Blue."

Quickly grabbing her books and her bag, Lilith headed toward the cafeteria. Lilith growled under her breath as she walked out of the class and through the hall. To get to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. Where she accidentally ran to Brittany and her little group once again. Brittany had Platinum blonde hair and muddy brown eyes that always looked brutal. Her face was caked with makeup like always. Lilith let out a sigh and muttered to herself. “This is what I don't need right now,” trying to walk around Brittany and her followers.

I turned around, only to jerk back when I saw her holding a butterfly in her hand. A huge one. “Yup.” My voice came out strained as I eyed the butterfly to make sure it didn’t suddenly fly in my face. I hated butterflies. They were disgusting flying creatures. “Is that why you’re slowly leaning away from it?” Cara had an evil smirk on her lips. “I’m not. I’m admiring it from afar.” I said, trying to be discreet about it. Out of nowhere, Cara brought the butterfly right up to my face, causing me to stand up from my seat and back away. I took a crutch and held it up, ready to swing at her if she came close again.

I walked away, defeated. I asked a couple of traders, but none of them had seen her. My hope had gotten thinner. I found a lot of flyers on the wooden post; pictures of wanted people from stealing, murders, rapist, and lost and found children. I pulled one black and white flyer with a picture of a woman that looked very familiar. My pulse raced as I took a closer look at the picture. WANTED ALIVE Name: Blue Iris Clayton Age: 24 years old Hair color: Natural blonde

I collapse to my knees, gripping my head. Visions explode behind my eyelids. A cliff. A lone figure standing at its edge. Hair flying in the wind. A familiar silhouette. No… My heart stops as I see her face. Her grey eyes. Her soft smile. Her lips part. “Goodbye, Zander.” Then, the knife in her hands rises. No… No… A scream tears from my throat as she plunges it toward her heart. “Noooooooo, Butterflyyyyyyyyy!!!”

I can't keep the tears from my eyes as I whisper. “Oh, wow, it's so beautiful thank you so much, Susan.” Zac looks at me with a tear in his eye as he says. “My beautiful butterfly, Thank you, Susan. It looks amazing.” The three of us end up in a group hug in the middle of the studio, all overcome with emotion. I feel like a butterfly that's just left its cocoon, I’m ready to break free, and it's all down to this man who stands by my side.

I reach into the black box next with slightly unsteady hands. A necklace. Delicate gold chain with a small emerald pendant, simple and perfect. And beneath it, wrapped in tissue paper, a slim bracelet — gold, with a single small charm hanging from it. A butterfly. I press my fingers over my mouth. How did you get my number? My phone buzzes again. Come on baby. I thought we were way past the formalities and the questions. Just wear the dress and meet me downstairs. I type back quickly, trying to sound more composed than I feel.

“It’s a umbrella for you. Butterfly wings are big enough to keep out the rain.” Jenny took the piece of paper in her hands. The paper made a “rustling” sound as it moved between her fingers. The crayon colors left marks on her fingerprints—pink, blue, brown, green—standing out sharply against her pale skin. She looked down at the butterfly. Its wings were pink, with asymmetrical patterns: three dots on the left wing and two on the right. The butterfly’s body was brown, and its antennae were blue, bending to form two question-mark-shaped arcs on the paper.