Butterfly Moth (GxG)

• cossidae •

Cossidae: The cossid millers or carpenter millers, make up a family of mostly large miller moths. This family contains over 110 genera with almost 700 known species, and many more species await description.
•🌙•🌙•
3

Humans are all a prison to one thing or another. Chains pull at all of our ankles, but the thing that differentiates each and every shackle is whether or not the owner has access to a key. If so, do they chose to use it? Some may hide the key away in a prison of its own, too fearful of what maybe on the other side of their cell. Others may reach desperately for their lock, wanting nothing more than to rip the heavy chains off of their weak ankles.

Then there are the other people. The ones who spend every hour watching after their key, knowing that it's there. But they never leave. They simply observe the key, learn every detail, every scratch, so that if one day they are ready to leave, they will. But it's more often just a dream. The idea of freedom is shallow, so they keep to their prison.

Nyx kept to hers. Her crypt came in the form of a small house at the end of a close-knit neighborhood. To the right of it was a dead end street, and to the left was a tall, freshly-painted blue residence. But the one she lived in didn't look like that. It was one story, excluding the basement, and a worn-in shade of yellow that was almost tinted brown with age.

Her mother, Diane, was out, said to be at work, and those were the hours that Nyx had to be extra careful. Diane didn't like it when Nyx grew too curious or asked too many questions. So Nyx quit asking them all together. She stayed indoors like her mother insisted and learned enough self-control to keep her imagination from becoming a reality.

She hummed a tune that she once heard on the radio that was kept on the dinning room table as she climbed onto the counter to reach a plate. Once she had what she was looking for, Nyx climbed back down and laid out two slices of wheat bread. Her hair was in another loose braid that hung down heavily from her head. Nyx had never had a haircut, never even realizing that it was a possibility, because Diane never offered.

Once she finished making herself a turkey sandwich for lunch, she went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Every set of curtains on every window was completely drawn in order to hide Nyx away from potential witnesses. There were no lights on either, which was something that she had become accustomed to.

There was enough light that poured through the fabric of those curtains to help her see what she was doing. Nyx ate her sandwich in silence, occasionally tapping her barefoot or returning to her humming.

Nyx was only allowed the television at night when Diane was home, for fear of her neighbors accidentally hearing that someone was there. They didn't know of Nyx and thought that Diane lived alone. Though, Nyx didn't really know or understand all of that.

There were only so many books that she could read to pass the time, so she often just found herself sitting down, staring blankly forward with the hope of coming up with something to do. She grew up in that sort of environment, teaching herself how to make due with what she had.

Halfway through her sandwich, there was a sudden knock on the door. Her heart began racing as she dropped the sandwich in pure panic, and jumped up from the couch. Diane had taught her what to do when someone knocked, but it didn't make it any less scary.

Nyx quickly darted down to the floor and kept low next to the couch. However, she found that it wasn't very easy to control herself. Nyx desperately wanted to see who it was. Just the glimpse of a human other than her mother seemed so refreshing. She mentally scolded herself for having thoughts like that. What would Momma say if she found out?

Another knock. It was soft and light, like whoever it was didn't really want to disturb the house. Losing grip on herself, Nyx crawled away from the couch and towards the large window to the right of the door. A recliner was sat in front of it, so she wedged herself in the space between the door and the recliner. She wasn't going to look out, she was just going to listen.

Or so she told herself. When there was one last knock on the door, Nyx simply couldn't control herself any longer. She lifted the edge of the curtain and peered out of the glass. Just as she did so, she made instant eye contact with a girl who looked to be her age. Her unruly and curly hair was in a half-up ponytail, and she wore an odd uniform that Nyx had never seen before. A pamphlet rested in her hands.

Her eyes were a deep brown that Nyx had never looked into before. Her own eyes were bright blue, along with Diane's. She never saw eyes so dark. They were like pools of shadows and secrets, untold witnesses to a life that Nyx had never been apart of. They were beautiful, she was beautiful.

That feeling was almost ethereal, even though it was incredibly brief. The feeling of looking into eyes that weren't apart of drawings, or behind TV screens. They were completely real, the only filter separating them was the glass window.

However, as soon as it happened, Nyx jumped back and ducked low. Her hand covered her mouth as she tried to grasp the fact that she was just spotted. What had gotten into her? After all of those years, Nyx had never once grown so curious as to actually peer out of the window. It was rare that she did so, and it was especially not when someone was outside.

There was one last smaller knock on the door before the girl decided to leave. What was Nyx supposed to do? Diane could never know that she was seen. Nyx kept a hand tucked over her mouth in shock and fear as she stood up on shaking legs.

That feeling of pure curiosity and want - no, need - to gaze out had never been so strong, so uncontrollable. Nyx truly believed that she was content with never actually being able to leave. She truly believed that she didn't need to go outside. But her body had betrayed her. After years of isolation, it finally gave in.

By then, her plate with a half eaten turkey sandwich was completely forgotten about. Nyx stared with wide eyes at the door as though it would suddenly combust. Her mind wasn't very kind with the ideas it was planting, and her chest had began to hurt with how quickly her heart was racing.

•🌙•🌙•