Chasing Butterflies Read Online Free

favorite chair. Still, I had nothing to do, and I’d been kicked out more than once by teachers who’d caught me in the halls too late after school. I sighed and walked as slowly as I could the few miles home.
    When I arrived, Dad’s beat-up truck wasn’t parked in the drive. My mood suddenly lightened. I wouldn’t have to hide in my room. I could get something to eat.
    Only when I walked in, Mom was there. Sandy made good on his word and sent her money every month. She quit one of her jobs and only worked at night at the bar because she made more in tips than she had as an administrative assistant at the accountant’s office in town. But she was usually gone to work by now.
    The sound of the door closing caused her eyes to lift and land on me. She’d been leaning on the counter, and she straightened. She focused red-rimmed eyes on me and my heart sank. Mom wasn’t a crier. If she had been crying, then shit was bad. Before I could ask, she moved in my direction with purpose. I’d grown a lot in the past two years, so when she wrapped her arms around my chest, the top of her head was several inches below my shoulder.
    “Kelley,” she sobbed.
    Immediately on red alert, I was unprepared for her tears. I felt helpless under their weight. Did we have to move? Had she lost her job? Had Dad died? If that last were true, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
    “What’s wrong?”
    When she didn’t answer, I created enough distance to glance in her eyes.
    “It’s Sandy.”
    The world tilted, or it felt that way.
    “Is he hurt? Is he coming home?” I asked, hopeful.
    Despite what I saw in her expression, I hoped I was right. Only, her next words would haunt me for the rest of my life.
    She shook her head. “No, he’s…he’s dead.”
    I stumbled back away from her. I bumped into Dad’s recliner and sat, not caring he’d kick my ass if he found me there. A burn started in my eyes, followed by an ache so deep, like an axe was embedded in my chest.
    “He can’t be,” I choked.
    Mom came over and hovered over me where I sat. It was her turn to comfort me as she had all my life. She wrapped her tiny arms around me and pressed my face into her chest like I did when I was little. After all, her kisses on all my cuts and scrapes would instantly heal them. Maybe she could somehow heal my broken heart. But it wouldn’t heal. That hole could never be filled. My brother, my best friend, was gone.
    I’d spoken to him the week before. He was looking forward to coming home in two years. He was tired of death, and it claimed him.
    Between sobs and maybe some of my own, muffled words of explanation came out of her. “I got the call. His funeral will be on Saturday.”
    The next few hours were a blur. I didn’t know who clung to who, Mom or me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my brother. We couldn’t afford Internet or those fancy phones. So I had only heard his voice over the years he’d been deployed overseas.
    I rocked in my chair like a mental case. I wanted nothing more than to break things. But we didn’t have much and what we did, Mom had worked hard to afford. So I yelled out my frustrations at God. Why couldn’t he have taken our father instead?
    When Dad got home, shit got real. “What the fuck, Kelley.”
    Immediately, my defenses went up, but a moment too late. The first blow came because he thought I’d caused Mom to cry. It was one of the few times he acted like he cared about her, so I took the lick, welcoming the coming numbness. My swing was all air. Dad evaded.
    Mom cried out when she stepped between us and caught the punch meant for me. Blood trickled down the corner of the mouth she covered.
    “See, boy, what you made me do.”
    I no longer believed in superheroes, but in that moment, I wished for one. Seeing Mom hurt made me reckless. I barreled into my father only to hit a brick wall. He swung up, catching me in the eye. I managed to stand tall and with my eye swelling, blindly took