Something More Than Human.

I swallow hard and blink before I step into your room.
"Sig," I mumble with the little breath I have.
You continue tinkering with your latest invention.
"Sigmund!" I squeak, trying to make my voice louder.
You look up, startled, and your often concentrated, serious expression grows into a smile.
"Oh, hey Eilir!" you greet me. "How are you?"
Noticing my somber disposition, wrinkles form on your brow, but you keep your smile plastered on your face to cheer me up.
"I saw my face today," I spit, choking back tears and hoping you won't notice.
Suddenly your smile drops and your mouth falls open.
Collecting yourself, you stammer, "Of- Of course you did. We have beautiful pictures of you all around the house."
You don't attempt to feign a smile this time.
"Do you think I'm pretty, Sig?" I taunt. "Am I as pretty as the other girls?"
You stare at me in disbelief and horror.
"When I asked you if I was pretty, you used to tell me I was something more than human."
I know why you could never give me a straight answer.
"Those pictures, they're from years ago, aren't they? Years of my life I don't remember. I didn't even realize they were missing. Where did all the time go, Sig?"
I can no longer hold back, and tears are streaming down my face. I haven't cried since before I had all of the old photos of me taken. The salt burns my skin, and I don't remember it burning this much.
"I... I  tried to fix it," you admit. "But I couldn't. I didn't want you to remember."
"I'm not a piece of machinery, Sig. You can't just fix me with your tools," I sob.
"I couldn't let you remember. I couldn't watch you be in pain, Eilir."
I can't believe you. I know you did this to me.
"Don't say you wanted to protect me!" I'm screaming now. "It hurts so much more now, knowing how much I've missed."
You're pale as a ghost. You've never seen this anger in me. Neither have I.
"How many years did you take away? Two? Three?" I ask.
"Eilir," you start.
"How long?" I blurt.
"Six years."
"Six years? I've lost six years of my life for this?! I always wondered why you smashed all our mirrors."
"I couldn't let you see what happened. I couldn't let you find out. I didn't think the years would matter if you didn't miss them," you try to explain.
I'm spitting bitter tears and rubbing my eyes, and it stings like an acid.  The only thing that hurts more is knowing the truth.
"How could you do this to me? I'm hideous!"
"I didn't. I.." you gasp.
"Then who?"
You reach out with tender fingertips and trace the flame-shaped scars flaring up on each eye and down on each cheek.
"I promised Dad I would protect you. I locked you away from the rest of the world. But you were never happy with yourself. You wanted to be a... a butterfly."
I did this?
I.. did this... to myself?
"Sig," I search for the words, "I'm sorry."
You grab the knife you'd been using to perfect your newest device and you hold it up to your face.
"Sig!" I try to stop you.
I watch in horror and my stomach turns as I struggle against your strong hand holding me back, your other carving a careful, deep butterfly into your flawless face.
Tears and blood run down your face and gather at your chin, dripping to your arm, and sliding down to cover my shirt where your hand pushes me against the wall.
"Eilir," you whisper, "I should have answered your question long ago."
"Sig-"
"You aren't pretty, Eilir. You're beautiful. You were always pretty, but you're so beautiful now."
You drop the knife and slip to the floor, your head hitting hard.
"Sig!" I scream as your hand releases me. I run to your side and you sit up to lean against the wall, staining everything you touch with glistening crimson.
You hold me to your chest as I sob and breath deeply. You stroke my hair and smile.
"Everything will be okay now, Eilir. We can be butterflies together now."