Butterfly Secrets

by G. L. Blackhouse

  Butterfly Secrets

  Butterfly Secrets

  By G. L. Blackhouse

  House of Glamourgan, LLC Publishing

  Olympia, Washington USA

  Butterfly Secrets

  Copyright © 2020 By G. L. Blackhouse

  Published by: House of Glamourgan, LLC

  Olympia, Washington USA

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage without written permission from the author and House of Glamourgan LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews

  First Edition, May 7, 2020

  www.houseofglamourgan.com

  ISBN: 9798620430567

  Printed in the United States of America

  Edited by: Karen Leet

  Cover Art: Kara Shouse

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR, G. L. BLACKHOUSE

  Long before assuming the pen name of G.L. Blackhouse, she wrote her first poem following the funeral of her beloved grandfather on her tenth Birthday. Her grandfather remains an inspiration to her. As she grew, so did her love for writing. Being raised in the South, she experienced the close-knit bond of family.

  Her writing aspires to explore the depths of human and spiritual connection and embraces the power within each of us to heal. She shares her own experience with grief and healing through her published work in the well-known Elephant Journal. She has spent her career working in the field of mental health and substance abuse prevention. She has witnessed first-hand the impact of addiction and abuse and how the duality of the family can challenge us and bring us strength than we never thought possible.

  When not writing, she can be found pursuing her unique talents as an international life and spiritual coach. She has clients spanning as far as Australia, England, India, and Canada.

  When at home, she enjoys spending time with her family, friends, and many pets.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to the Creator for answered prayers.

  To my friend and honorary editor, Alena, the other half of G.L. Blackhouse, thanks for starting this journey with me years ago. Thanks for being a soundboard for ideas and for reigning me back in when I wrote too much. Thanks for believing in me no matter what.

  Charles and Brayden, thanks for allowing me the time and support to pursue this life dream. I am grateful to you both. Thanks to my rock and cheerleader

  Carol, I am who I am because of your constant encouragement. You taught me never to give up on my dreams and that anything is possible.

  Derek and Amanda, thanks so much for your support!

  Kara, my sister, thanks for the cover art, it is beautiful!

  Karen Leet, my editor, thanks for your support and encouragement!

  Thanks to my friends and family who believed in me years ago and those who have encouraged me now.

  Thanks to my work family for your support!

  Thanks to Dad, you remain with me in my heart now and always.

  Papaw Warren, it is because of you I began writing.

  Mamaw Juanita, you were the inspiration for Grandma May with your love of family and zest for life. You remain with me even now in my dreams.

  To my publisher House of Glamourgan and Glamourgan

  and Ciara Jayne, thanks for giving me this opportunity that has been years in the making.

  To all those who either influenced me through your actions or words, I am grateful for each of you!

  Special thanks for Sally Smith for her voice and audio tech support.

  I began writing when I was ten. Don’t ever allow anyone to tell you that you cannot achieve your dreams!

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1- BURIED SECRETS - 1

  CHAPTER 2 –GHOSTS OF THE PAST - 5

  CHAPTER 3- AMELIA - 9

  CHAPTER 4- BAD OMEN - 14

  CHAPTER 5- THE LETTER - 23

  CHAPTER 6- AUNT GEORGIA - 33

  CHAPTER 7-NO TURNING BACK - 43

  CHAPTER 8- ROAD TRIP - 50

  CHAPTER 9- HOME - 68

  CHAPTER 10- SINS OF THE PAST - 80

  CHAPTER 11- DOUBLE VISION - 96

  CHAPTER 12- VISITOR - 108

  CHAPTER 13- REUNION - 117

  CHAPTER 14- OLD FLAME - 136

  CHAPTER 15- MEMORY LANE - 154

  CHAPTER 16- ROY - 166

  CHAPTER 17- ALTERED STATE - 180

  CHAPTER 18- WINNEPEAKE BAY - 192

  CHAPTER 19- MAMA - 206

  CHAPTER 20- THE DREAM - 220

  CHAPTER 21- UNFINISHED BUSINESS 234

  CHAPTER 22- ROAD RAGE - 242

  CHAPTER 23- CELEBRATION- 251

  CHAPTER 24- DESIRE - 265

  CHAPTER 25- GOODBYE - 276

  CHAPTER 26- MEMORIES - 284

  CHAPTER 27- UNHINGED - 296

  CHAPTER 28- EXPOSED - 306

  CHAPTER 29- THE PROPOSAL - 317

  CHAPTER 30- HOMECOMING - 321

  CHAPTER 1- BURIED SECRETS

  I run through the woods with the sounds of barking dogs, the sheriff, Mama, and Daddy screaming in the background. The rain is cold, and the night air bites into my skin like tiny shards of glass. I inch closer as Mama, Daddy, the search team of dogs, police, and nosey neighbors run after me. I turn and run at full speed. They are going the wrong way. It is getting dark. I run faster and faster through the woods despite the protests of my numb mother and my drunken father. I am Jordy’s only hope. If I don’t find her, she will think I have abandoned her too.

  I run as the rain pelts hard against my skin. My heart pounds through my chest like a train running at full speed. The wind blows my hair and clothes. Lightning strikes illuminate the trees all around me. My dog, Daisy, a tan and white collie, runs after me as though trying to convince me it is safer to turn around.

  In the distance, I can hear the faded sounds of the sheriff, my Aunt Georgia, and the neighbors. Mama and Daddy are fighting about me running off ahead. Mama is sobbing over a lost Jordy.

  “Jordy, Jordy! It’s ok, Jord. Em’s here. It’s ok!” I shout as tears flood down my cheeks.

  I have a sick feeling in my stomach, but I dismiss it. I run faster and faster against the cold, hard rain.

  Then, I see it. A few feet in front of me is a massive pile of leaves. Standing by them is Grandma May.

  I almost fall to my knees in reaction. Grandma May has been dead for years. I must be losing my mind, I think.

  I stare blankly at the pile of leaves. The images pass by like movie frames, slow, and still.

  The leaves are colored shades of bright reds, oranges, and yellows. Beside them is an old, faded pink, rusted lounge chair.

  My mind is flooded with images of Jordy and me as kids laughing and playing in the woods. The laughter echoes inside my head. My heart pounds faster, and my whole body begins to shake.

  ‘I’m stopped dead in my tracks standing at the edge of what was once an old farm well, now perfectly camouflaged by nature. Frozen. I hear nothing.

  “Jordy,” I whisper.

  “Jordy!” I yell in a panic.

  Still nothing. Not even a faint cry for help or a moan.

  My stomach churns and gurgles. I stand just a few inches in front of the leaves.

  The police dogs race past me, straight to the pile of leaves. They bark and paw. Through tear-filled eyes, I watch the men pull back the debris. My mother races past me and falls to her knees.

  “She’s dead. She’s dead. Jordy’s frickin’ dead,” she cries as she lowers her head into her hands and sobs.

  Still frozen, I watch as Aunt Georgia puts her arms around Mama, and Daddy cusses and throws the old lounge chair, hitting a tree. Sheriff Forbes scolds Daddy, something he had done many times over the years.


  I watch for several minutes as more deputies arrive. One of them calls for the coroner.

  My whole body feels numb as I think of Jordy scared and alone in the woods.

  “She can’t be dead!” I yell as tears rush down my cheeks. Unafraid, I try to climb down inside the hole after my sister.

  I feel an arm stop me and pull me back. It’s Mama. I push her away and quickly turn back toward the hole.

  “Go away!’ I shout through tear-filled eyes as the deputies pull me away. I punch and try to fight my way free.

  “No! She can’t be dead! Let me in there! I’m all that she has!” I scream.

  I hear Daddy yelling something in the background.

  I stare down at the hole, at Jordy’s bloodied and bruised body, as the deputies hold tightly to me. Unable to move, each breath gets harder and harder like someone fighting for air before drowning. Everything goes black. An image of Grandma May’s face is the last thing I remember.

  CHAPTER 2 –GHOSTS OF THE PAST

  I awoke in a cold sweat with images of the hard rain, barking dogs, and a bruised and bloodied Jordy lying inside the deep well-seared into my mind as I had so many nights before. This recurring nightmare continued to haunt me, and no matter how hard I tried to escape my past, it was always there, lurking like a stranger ready to attack.

  The bright lights of the city filled my loft with colors of red, blue, and white. The harsh sounds of sirens from ambulances permeated the early morning air. To most, being awakened three hours before work would be disturbing. For me, however, it was soothing. A welcome retreat from the quiet country life that I had known. A life corroded by secrets that I had so desperately tried to leave behind. I told myself that I was better off moving to the city away from it all. Not to mention, I sure didn’t miss the annoying repetitive sounds of those crickets and frogs that filled the nights there. I tried to convince myself that I had a good life now. I had rid myself of my alcoholic father and my depressed, addicted mother. At least that is what I had told myself.

  It was in the stillness and the quiet that thoughts of Jordy and my family came creeping in like a snake before snatching up its prey. I had looked after Jordy all of her life. We grew up walking on eggshells, trying dreadfully not to disturb Daddy or make him angry, knowing if we did, we were sure to wake the next morning with blisters from the wrath of his tattered leather belt. He would call Mama names, beat her with his boot, a belt, his fist, or whatever else was handy. Jordy and I were never allowed to say anything without him flying off the handle.

  Jordy and I had grown up in a home with constant fighting, drugs, and alcohol. All that we had was each other. Mama and Daddy fought over everything, the bills, our meals, even the remote control, or something as mundane as the weather. No subject was safe.

  Jordy and I would often hide inside a small closet upstairs in the large, but old house, and I would tell her stories. The stories were a distraction, at least for her, I thought. Other days we would take cover in the woods when the fighting between Mama and Daddy escalated. These two places were our trusted escapes. The night before Jordy died, she had been feeling sick and had asked me to run away with her. Her small, pale face had looked so serious as she stared back at me with her dark brown eyes and exclaimed we could find new parents to love us. I had done what I thought was the responsible thing to do. I told Jordy things would be better in the morning while I held her in my arms and smoothed her hair until she fell asleep. I lay there beside her, careful not to wake her. I wanted to remain near her in case she needed me.

  The next morning Mama had let Jordy stay home from school. I went off to school, shouting back promises to Jordy that I would play with her when I returned as I made my way out the door. I had a test that day. I didn’t want to miss school. I was trying hard to earn the best of grades and, hopefully, a college scholarship. I wanted to make a better life for Jordy and me. Sadly, Jordy had died that day. All because I had chosen to go to school. Because of me!

  The even worse part was I had seen it. Grandma May had shown me in a dream, just nights before, the well, the leaves. I knew where to find Jordy. I blamed myself. I blamed Mama and Daddy, my cousin Jimmy for having to run back inside the school to use the bathroom, making the bus late. Grandma had called these dreams a gift. All they had ever brought me was grief. What kind of gift was it if it couldn't save Jordy? It was more of a curse. I just wanted Jordy back.

  Years later, not a day passes by without thoughts of Jordy. The nights are the worst. The images are much sharper and more real. I awake often covered in sweat and panicked with visions of her death still cutting through my heart like a sharp blade, each more painful than the last. It should've been me that died that day. Not Jordy! She didn't deserve it!

  CHAPTER 3- AMELIA

  Grateful to be awake and free from yet another terrifying nightmare, I rose out of bed and placed my feet on the cold, concrete floor beneath me. It was far different from the old wooden floors back home covered with numerous mismatched oriental rugs. The hard-concrete floor comforted me. It felt impersonal, not warm and inviting. Sleep, to me, was something I generally avoided. I had grown accustomed to consuming mega amounts of coffee a day, the occasional energy drink, whatever it took. Each time I lay down, my past flooded back to me like a swift river, rapidly pulling me over the edge. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the haunting images of my dead seven-year-old sister, Jordy, as she lay in the bottom of the old well in her white tattered and torn dress.

  Most people here seemed to mind their own business and I, for one, didn’t ask a lot of questions. I liked it that way. I liked not having to revisit my past, although it seemed to stay buried in the pit of my stomach, giving me a sickening feeling like after eating bad food.

  I got up from my bed and walked over to peer outside the huge window overlooking the city. I ran my fingers slowly against the glass and looked out. The rain pelted and dinged as it hit harder against the window.

  Sounds of alarms and sirens continued to fill the smoggy air. I breathed in a sigh of relief, pleased that the noisy city would allow me the needed distractions from my dreams and from the messages that Grandma May kept sending in them. Grandma May had been the only stability I had known growing up. She had been the only one to show me real and unconditional love. She was gone now, and as far as I was concerned, so was my old life back home.

  I sighed again as I wondered how someone who had cared so deeply for me could keep showing up in my dreams, filled with pain? That day everything disappeared, and nothing remained the same.

  My parents ended up divorcing a year later after Jordy’s death when I was fifteen. Soon after, Mama met Roy, who managed to be even worse than my father. At seventeen, I left home on a full scholarship and moved to Chicago. I attended school at the University and received a Doctorate degree in psychology.

  I nervously twirled my hair as I emerged from my morning daze and made my way over to my coffee maker. I methodically scooped in the coffee and filled it with water. I pressed the brew button and paced around the room, anxiously waiting for it to brew before filling my large mug. The rain continued to pour down. I hated it. It reminded me of Jordy. Everything did.

  No matter how hard I tried to escape with my modern-day loft, my new name, and my mega doses of coffee to avoid sleep, it still kept haunting me. I knew deep down that this loft filled with concrete floors and modern abstract art wasn’t me. It was a sharp contrast from my home in Lancaster adorned with crocheted blankets and old Americana. I told myself with all of this modern-day decor that I was miles away from my pain, miles away from the helpless little girl I had been. Miles away from Em. So, like burying Jordy, I buried that part of me, the naive, kind-hearted country girl. I lost my heart the day Jordy died, and I vowed to do everything I could to lose every part of me that was associated with that life.

  I had no social life. The only people that I talked to were my patients and a few co-workers that made notice of my southern accent more than I car
ed for. Each day was the same. I would awake from a less than adequate night’s sleep, guzzle down a giant mug of coffee, work an extra-long day at the office, and return home to pour down more coffee. People were something to be avoided, at least on a personal level. I often told myself that I didn’t really like people and occasionally even questioned my choice of careers. Deep down, I had thought that by helping others, I was somehow saving Jordy.

  I jerked as I felt a wet, hot tongue against my ankle, tickling it. I looked down and smiled at Tiny, my Chihuahua. Tiny, was my only companion. I picked her up as she licked my hand. I loved her. She didn’t betray me, hit me, or abandon me. I carried Tiny in my arms as I walked over to the black desk in the corner and sat down in my chair. I patted Tiny’s head a few times as she enthusiastically licked my face. I reached into a drawer and handed her a treat before putting her back down.

  I picked up a pile of mail from days earlier. There was an electric bill, an invitation to a co-worker’s wedding that I would skip, and a long white envelope that read: J. Roderick Law Firm. I cringed as I looked at the address on the letter that read Lancaster, Georgia. I wondered who at home could have tracked me here and what on earth did they want? Frustrated, I carelessly threw down the letter. I didn’t have time for home today. I had to get to work.

  Hurriedly, I made my way to my bedroom, I blankly stared at my clothes before quickly deciding on a soft turquoise and brown print button-up shirt and a brown flowing skirt to match.

  I reached over and opened the small, white jewelry box embellished with blue butterflies that sat atop my dresser like a secret shrine among the clutter. Jordy had given it to me about a year before she died. Aunt Georgia had helped her pick it out. Displaying the jewelry box was my way of showing Jordy that I would never forget her no matter how much pain it caused me. It served as a reminder that even though she was no longer here that I thought about her every day and loved her more than I could ever describe. I reached inside the jewelry box, grabbed a turquoise bangle, threw on my shoes, and rushed towards the door.