Butterfly Moth (GxG)

• adelidae •

Adelidae: Also called fairy longhorn moths, it is a family of monotrysian moths in the lepidopteran infraorder Heteroneura. The family was first described by Charles Théophile Bruand d'Uzelle in 1851.
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11

Sometimes the nights felt darker. That was when Diane came home in a stupor, feet dragging on the carpets and eyes glazed over. Nyx didn't like those nights. Diane would go on a rant about all that she had done for her daughter. It scared Nyx.

It was on that Wednesday, as Nyx secretly counted the seconds until Sunday, even if she wasn't supposed to. She was overly excited for it, because she wanted to be able to talk to someone new. It wouldn't hurt anyone if she didn't actually speak, or if Diane never found out. That girl had such a pleasant voice that it was impossible to not want to hear more of it. What was the damage if she never showed her face?

After years of solitude and silence, Nyx simply couldn't stop herself. She required other people to keep from completely losing touch with the world. And even if she would never say it out loud, Nyx wanted to know what it was like on the other side of that door.

Then Diane came home, and Nyx forgot entirely about the girl or her soothing voice. The door was closed too loudly, that was Nyx's first indicator of her mother's foul mood. Then she forgot to take off her shoes, followed by never greeting Nyx.

Instead, she went straight from the door, to mumbling as she loomed over the couch that Nyx was sat at. Her perfect posture that she always made Nyx replicate, was rigid as her blank eyes stared at her small daughter. Unlike Nyx, Diane was very tall with long legs and big hands. Nyx was very short, thin, and petite.

"Hello, Momma." Nyx said happily, hoping that offering a smile and a warm greeting would erase that blank stare and replace it with love.

"I do so much for you." Was the first thing that Nyx could make out. The mumbling was low and incoherent. She smelt foul, the same way that she always smelt when she came home like that. But Nyx never knew why. She always just guessed that people must smell bad when they were unhappy. "Everything. All of it."

"Momma, are you alright?" Nyx asked her, standing from the couch to lightly touch Diane's arm.

Diane's hand instantly shot up, gripping Nyx's wrist as she stared into her eyes. "I've kept your virgin eyes from seeing the horrors of the world. I've kept the demons from knowing about you. If they know of you, they will taint you. I've don't everything for you. I'm the only reason that you're so pure. Like an angel."

Her words were like whispers of the dark. The whites of her eyes had a tinge of red to them, something that was yet another common factor when she was in a mood like that. Her hand slowly began to clench around Nyx's wrist.

"Momma, that hurts." She whimpered.

Diane was swaying slightly as she stood. Nyx started to cower as she imagined Diane's tall form morphing into a sinister being, reminding her of some sort of sick Disney villain. "So much. No thanks, no applause. The world is sick, my sweet shadow. It takes what it wants, and it wants your innocence." Her voice gradually became more strained, and her grip tightened severely. "It will take it. It wants to make you guilty. To tarnish you. Your purity will be stripped if you leave this house."

Nyx began to shake, legs threatening to give out from under her and bladder threatening to release. She was beyond petrified. Whenever Diane did that her eyes were so disturbing, artificial light casting deep shadows on her sharp features, and her movements became uncontrolled. It felt as though she was a puppet to her own body. Motions jerky and feet stumbling. "Momma, please." She was barely able to find her voice, the pain of her mother's hand on her wrist was somehow overwritten by the way that she acted.

"Oh." Diane muttered, loosening her hand before reaching the other up to lightly stroke Nyx's long and thick hair. "But it isn't your fault. No, no. You are the purity this world needs, my shadow. As long as you stay, you will be saved."

The feeling of Diane's fingers threading through her hair didn't comfort the shaking girl. Nyx couldn't get that stench out of her nostrils, and that red never faded from the whites of Diane's eyes. That meant that she wasn't all herself. She may be gentle now, but it didn't mean that she would remain that way.

"Go down stairs. Sit beneath the lamp like always." Diane instructed. "I'll be there soon."

As soon as she completely let go, Nyx turned and tried to refrain from running. She stumbled slightly on her way down the wooden stairs that led into the basement. She was shaking too much to walk straight. Her tears began to flood over, chest heaving as she cried quietly. Tomorrow would come and the night would pass. But she lived in a state of perpetual night, and the sun didn't shine down upon her pale skin.

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