“Purple Butteflies”

By Dark Pegasus

Prologue

            His mind had been wandering most of the day. He found it extremely hard to concentrate on his work. He looked down at the textbook in front of him but could not concentrate on the garbled letters and words. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else.

            His name was Jacques. He had just turned 16 the day before, but he did not feel any older. Just by looking at him, purple was obviously his favorite color. He wore contacts that painted his eyes purple; he dyed the ends of his otherwise black hair deep purple; almost everything he wore was purple. The only thing that was not purple was the golden earring in his right ear.

             It was the year 2155 and it had only been 60 years since World War III came to a halt. He attended a rather old-fashioned school that sat in the foothills of a well-known mountain range. The school dated back to as late as the year 2000. Although there were classes that concentrated on NORMAL academics, the school’s main focus was that of a topic long forgotten.

            Jacques was currently trying to make it through his Ancient Literature class. He stared down at the book in front of him and allowed his hair to fall in front of his face. “Mr. Lucas? Would you like to join us?” the teacher asked, standing right in front of the half-asleep Jacques’s desk.

            He sat up, angry because she called him by his real name. His hair rivaled his older sister’s in terms of length. His hair reached down to his waist. He looked up at the teacher.

            “If you think you are doing so well in my class that you can doze off, why not share with the class the answer to question 7 on page 286?”

            Jacques flipped close to the back of the book and took a moment to read over the long question.

            “As I thought, you weren’t paying attention.” The teacher said.

            “I have a question.” A voice asked. Jacques looked up to see the boy who normally never talks, stand up.

            The teacher looked in his direction. “Yes.”

            “How can you ask him a question about a story that we haven’t covered yet? That’s unfair.”

            Jacques stood up. “Actually, I know the answer. I read this story a long time ago. The answer is simple. It is internal conflict, because the main character spends the whole story asking other people what they think of him, when he needed to be asking himself the same question. He tried so hard to be someone else that he messed himself up.”

            “The hardest person to know… Is yourself. He found that out the hard way.” The boy added. His name was Quinn. Jacques had seen the boy around school many times before, they were even in two of the same classes, but this was the first time he had actually opened his mouth to speak to someone.

            Jacques was Asian and proud of the fact that he had Native American blood in him. Quinn was Black. Other than his race, name and age, Jacques did not know anything else about the boy.

            The teacher looked back and forth between the two, surprised that her plan had backfired so easily. She sighed in defeat. “You may be seated.” She said to the two of them and continued with her lecture. Jacques sat down and could not help but look over his shoulder at Quinn, who sat at the desk three rows behind him. He turned back around so that he could not be accused of staring and he finally decided to pay attention.

****************

            Ancient Literature had just ended and it was currently lunchtime. Jacques saw Quinn walking by himself toward the dorm rooms and Jacques ran to catch up with him. “Thanks for having my back.” Jacques said, holding his hand out for Quinn to shake. Quinn just looked slightly fearfully at Jacques before timidly reaching out to shake Jacques’s hand. “I owe you.”

            Quinn let go of Jacques’s hand and continued up the empty hallway toward the dorm rooms.

            “Where are you going?” Jacques asked, but did not receive an answer. “It’s lunch time… You DO know that most people eat lunch either outside or in the cafeteria, right?”

            Quinn just opened the door to the dorm room and walked in. “I like… the quiet.” Quinn said, softly. Jacques almost did not hear him. He followed Quinn up a flight of stairs and watched Quinn pull out a paper bag before sitting on his bed, which seemed to be separate from all the others and sat beside a window. Jacques sat down beside Quinn.

            “Do you enjoy being alone?” Jacques asked. Quinn did not say anything; he just reached into the bag and pulled out a sandwich. “I mean, every time I see you, you’re alone… Don’t you get lonely being by yourself all the time?”

            Quinn just ate his sandwich in silence. After a moment, the sounds of birds chirping filled the rather large room. Quinn stood up and walked over to the window. “The birds are my friends… They come to my window… That is why I come here for lunch... I feel it’s my duty to feed them.” Quinn said. Jacques could not help but notice that Quinn spoke as if it were painful to him.

            “You still didn’t answer my question. How come you are always alone?”

            “The birds give me someone to talk to.” Quinn answered.

            Jacques could not help but feel like he was being ignored. He put his hand on Quinn’s shoulder and was surprised when the 15 year old flinched. “Is there a problem?”

            “Why are you here? Why did you follow me?” Quinn asked.

            Jacques removed his hand from Quinn’s shoulder and watched as the boy completely opened the once half-open window. A breeze of autumn air shot into the room. “I wanted to thank you.”

            “Why? I did nothing.”

            “That teacher would’ve been on my case if you hadn’t spoken up. You were right. She was trying to get me to answer a question about a story that we haven’t done in class.”

            “But you said you read it.”

            “I did… I collect old books. I love to read, write, and draw… No one wants to understand me simply because of how I dress.” Jacques looked around the dorm room. The other side of the room was a complete mess, but about a yard away from Quinn’s bed, the piles of clothes and toys stopped abruptly. “You have your own space here… The whole corner of this room is yours. In addition, you get a bay window. Aren’t you happy?”

            Quinn slightly shook his head before he continued eating his sandwich. After a few minutes, Jacques realized that Quinn was not going to answer him.

            “I’m going to go get my lunch. Is it alright if I come back up here?” Jacques asked.

            Quinn turned away from the window to look at Jacques and was not expecting their eyes to meet. He quickly turned back away. “If you want to.”

            “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jacques said.

**************

            An 18-year-old girl, slightly muscular, but still thin, sat on the brick wall outside. She was enjoying her lunch with her boyfriend, Oliver. “So are you coming to the game tonight?” The strawberry blonde haired boy asked her.

            “Of course, Oliver. I wouldn’t miss it.”

            “How many times have I told you I loved you, Jade?” Oliver asked, spiking his hair with a few upward strokes of his wet fingers with a few drops of gel.

            “In the past five minutes, eleven and counting.” Jade said, dramatically checking her watch and counting on her fingers.

            Oliver blushed, his freckles becoming even more evident on his face.

            Jade was about to continue when she noticed a familiar purple streak walk past. “Jacques, where are you going?” Jade asked her younger brother.

            “To eat lunch.” Jacques replied.

            “Aren’t you going to eat lunch with us?”

            “I would, but I’m not in the mood to watch soap operas while I eat. I’m trying a different atmosphere today.” Jacques said. Without another word, he continued toward the west wing of the school.

            “Your brother is weird… Dressing in all purple, dying his hair like that.” Oliver said.

            Jade pushed her hair into a ponytail, using the rubber band that she had around her wrist. Oliver was a star Battleball player. Battleball was a game created by the school. It was like the soccer and basketball games of the old days. There was a ball that you had to use to score for your team. There were no restrictions on playing. You did whatever you could to get the ball. There was only one rule: you cannot aim for the head.

            Each Battleball player had his or her own choice of weapons. Only the goalie could have a long-range weapon. Of course, the weapons are not real. They are a very realistic hologram. The hologram was realistic enough that you could touch it, feel it, hold on to it and of course, get hit by hit.

Oliver’s weapon of choice was the sword. Oliver was familiar with Jacques. Jacques was a goalie for another Battleball team. Jacques usually chose an old-fashioned gun. Guns, magic, and books are obsolete in this day and age. Computerized or mechanized weapons are common, but anything that causes an explosion or generates electricity is prohibited for obvious reasons.

 Unlike other schools, this particular academy specialized in mixing the old with the new. This particular academy did not have a school team. The students could band together and form their own team. Games and tournaments were arranged by the school, you just had to have a registered team to play.

            There were currently 27 registered Battleball teams.

 “Don’t talk about my brother. He means no harm. He’s just misunderstood.”  Jade retaliated.

The academy could be compared to a university. Students spend their lives on campus, sleeping in their dorm rooms and living off the school’s facilities. Unlike the schools of the old days, you do not go for only four years. As soon as you turn six, you are sent to a school, where you stay on campus until meet the requirements to graduate, which take several years to do. There are many classes required for graduation and many do not graduate until they are in their twenties, but the overall social atmosphere takes your mind off all of that.

******************

            Quinn was not in the room when Jacques returned. Jacques set his food down on Quinn’s bed, searched the room before he looked out the window, and noticed that Quinn was…asleep in the tree.

Jacques had to look twice to make sure he was looking at it right. Sure enough, when he approached the window, Quinn was sound asleep in the branches of the tree that stood right beside the window. “What are you doing?” Jacques asked. He was a little worried.

Quinn sat up with a start, and then recognized Jacques’s face before his heart calmed down. “I wanted to take a nap. The bed was uncomfortable… Besides, I feel a lot better in my tree.” Quinn crawled toward the window on the branch of the tree and jumped in the window.

Jacques noticed that there was something where Quinn had been resting before. “What is that?” Jacques asked.

Quinn looked to where Jacques was pointing. “That’s just Roscoe… My pet pheasant.”

“Pet pheasant?” Jacques questioned.

“He came to me one night and never left…” Quinn stated. Jacques once again looked out at the pale purple bird before sitting on Quinn’s bed.

“A lot of people here have pets. Normally, it is either a cat or a small dog. My sister’s boyfriend has a pet ferret. This is the first time I have seen a person with a pet bird of any kind. Question: How did you come up with the name Roscoe?” Jacques said.

Quinn looked out the window, watching the rather large bird as it stared into the window at the two. “He told me his name was Roscoe.”

“He told you?”

“I knew you would think I’m crazy… I am not crazy. Roscoe talks to me, but only when we’re alone.” Quinn said almost frantically.

Jacques calmed Quinn down by giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Did I say you were crazy? Talking animals are not that big of a deal anymore… I mean, they used to be the most popular thing, then World War III came along and when it was over, it was as if no one cared about anything anymore.” Jacques said. When Quinn gave him a confused look, Jacques smiled. “I read it in a book from WAY back when.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy, like everybody else?” Quinn asked softly.

Once again, Luke felt as if Quinn had not heard a word he said. “Why would I?” Jacques asked.

Quinn just turned his eyes to the floor while Jacques took this moment to start on his lunch. Lunchtime would be over in ten minutes. Quinn had long finished his lunch. Jacques could not help but feel uneasy under Roscoe’s emotionless stare. “Because I have dreams…”

Jacques was shocked. During the nine year long World War III, it had been scientifically proven that humans no longer had dreams. People who had dreams were considered, at one point, divine, but as memories of the war faded, so did the belief that people who had dreams were important to the safeguarding of the world. Jacques had read about people having dreams many times, but he had never truly believed it until now. “Wow…” was the only word Jacques could say.

Quinn just shook his head at the same time a loud bell rang. Jacques stood up and pulled Quinn to his feet. “Come on…” Jacques said, grabbing Quinn’s hand. “We have to make it all the way to the other side of the school in less than five minutes!”

Quinn could not help but smile. He had not smiled in months. Of course, he would be happy. Why wouldn’t he be? The boy who he had a crush on ever since his fifth year was now dragging him around the school by his hand.

Meanwhile, Roscoe had finally moved from the branches of Quinn’s tree. He flew gracefully in the air, watching the crowds of people as they all rushed to get to their classes on time. He perched himself on the ledge of a building and watched as Jacques led Quinn down the breezeway. “Maybe… just maybe…” the bird said.

Author’s Note: So how do you like? I know it is a little weird, but I am still introducing things. Wait until the actual story starts. It gets a lot better.