The Bar and the Butterfly [BWWM]

Chapter 1

Note: I really encourage readers to try and get past chapter 1. I know the story starts off with a character arc and a situation not always depicted in stories that could make it challenging to warm up to this story,  but that is the purpose of the character. Having an open mind for the characters especially is really important when reading, so I want to thank those that have given it a chance. 

I felt a cool tingle travel up my spine causing me to halt abruptly. I glanced up from the cutting board and stared at the analog clock ahead of me. I furrowed my brows. 5:44 PM, it read. It's too early. I let out a shaky breath and looked back down to continue slicing. I've always liked the red bell pepper. It wasn't too sweet, it wasn't too spicy. There was a freshness I could only obtain through them. I always add red bell pepper to everything, and tonight was no exception. 

The chef's knife easily sliced through its protective casing, strip by strip. I sliced through it slowly, making sure each strip was the same size and the same length. The sound of the boiling pot beside me drowned out my thoughts in disarray. Despite feeling the thick cold chill settling over the air, I continued to drown myself in my thoughts. I love making food. It makes me feel strong, powerful, like my own decisions matter. I feel good. This is the best place I can be right now. Nowhere else is better than right here, in my kitchen, slicing a pepper.

 Nowhere else is better, nowhere else is safe, nowhere else is—a sudden boom shook the kitchen with passion, and I let out a sharp cry. My eyes shot open. I was gripping the knife so hard as I felt my shoulders shudder. I could feel the goosebumps travel up my arms as I watched the red liquid escape my finger. Oh god, it was deep. I let out a shudder as I quickly backed away from the cutting board, dropping the knife against the cold hardwood in the process. Now it's on the clean floor.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," I spurted as I staggered past the barstools, knocking one over. The loud clap of thunder erupted and shook the room once again. I let out another cry as I quickly made my way to the bathroom. I could feel my heart racing as I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. Another boom exploded throughout the apartment as I rushed to turn on the faucet, quickly ignoring the sight in front of the mirror. 

I can't breathe. I feel like I'm breathing, but nothing is coming in. I breathe harder. I feel like I'm suffocating. The water is turning so red. Another clap of thunder ruptured through the apartment, bringing with it the soft patter of the rain. I sank down onto the floor against the sink and pulled my knees into my chest. Why won't it stop? Why won't the thunder stop? I felt my breathing increase. I wept, more tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Please stop," I barely whispered, my voice hoarse as another clap of thunder echoed through the apartment. My pants were red from my finger, but I didn't care as I continued to squeeze my legs against my chest. "Please, please make the thunder stop." I even searched what time it would storm. It was too early to storm! I squeezed my eyes shut as a flash of light crossed my eyes, followed by another clap of thunder. I felt my breathing continue to increase. I can't do this anymore, I can't do this again. 

Last time was worse, I couldn't feel my body, but now? Now, I have this stupid cut and everywhere is red. Maybe if I stay here, the thunder will go away faster, maybe if I stay quiet, it will go away. I don't remember the last time I left here, but that didn't stop the thunder. Here is all I know, here is where it's safe from the thunder, safe from the outside. Nothing can hurt me here—

My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of the telephone ring and I jerked my head up. My breathing staggered. I didn't do anything, I swear. The telephone rang again, this time, continuing its deafening ring. I slowly rose from the ground and made my way towards the phone, making sure to duck from the mirror. The phone grew louder as I approached it. I swallowed hard as my shaking fingers grazed the quickly vibrating phone. Before I knew it, the phone was to my ears.