Broken Butterflies Read Online Free PDF Page A

a tangled heap of metal, curving on one another like a pretzel. Shards of the merry-go-round platform were lodged in the snack shack a few feet away. Animals that sat on coiled springs in the kids play area were beheaded. The slide was across the street, snuggly sliced through a garage roof. Across the park by the baseball diamond, a fire crew sprayed at flames leaping from the dugouts.
    Placing her palm on a wood parking post, she climbed over a pile of debris. Dusting her hand was iridescent powder that made her skin feel like velvet. She held her palm out and ran her index finger through the shiny dust. Some of it was pure white while other parts were pitch black. Neither would join the other. When she forced the particles, they dashed across her hand like a breeze caught them. Like polar opposites. Maybe I shouldn’t be touching this. She wiped her hand on her pants and the particles danced away from each other.
    She walked past the mayor, who looked like he threw on the first thing available. He stood amongst the town in a flannel shirt, trucker hat, and sweats. His socks under his sandals made her chuckle.
    “It looks like a tornado came through town. Someone better give me some explanations.” The mayor demanded.
    The police chief stammered, “Sir, we’re doing all we can. There’s no trace of evidence.”
    “Well, the park didn’t destroy itself. Get on it!” The mayor looked at Ilisha. “And what’s she doing in here?”
    “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the park.” The chief took Ilisha’s arm and escorted her back to the street.
    A giant maple tree, which had been therefore as long as Ilisha could remember, lay in their path. It was shredded and snapped as if it were a tooth pick. “I think I can manage from here,” Ilisha said as she turned to avoid a branch. She turned around once and the chief glared back.
    At her mom’s house, she heard someone in the kitchen. Assuming it was her mother, she opened the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Instead of her mother, it was Bram. “What are you doing here?”
    He leaned on the counter like he might fall down if he didn’t have the support. “You need to take those pants off and wash your hands.”
    “Are you okay?” she asked, stepping toward him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the kitchen sink. “Hey,” she protested.
    Ignoring her irritation, he flipped up the handle and let the warm water run. “Wash.”
    “Okay geez, why are you being so pushy?”
    “Take your pants off.”
    “I’ll go upstairs and change.” She pointed with her thumb behind her and went to turn.
    “No time.” Ilisha followed his eyes. Winding up her leg, the black powder converged, and began to wrap around her.
    “What the?” Her sweats tightened around her thigh, getting even tighter as she watched. She could feel the pressure squeezing her muscles.
    Ilisha panicked and grasped at them, but Bram caught her hands. “I’m sorry,” he said as he tore the pants from her. In one clean, swift, tug, she stood in her underwear.
    Bram dug through the cabinets for a pot. Finding the one he wanted, fire appeared in the palm of his hand. Her sweats went up in flames. Smoke detectors in the house rang. Bram stuck his palm to the floor. There was a soft thud under Ilisha’s feet as a shock wave traveled through the house, causing the smoke alarms to disable. Everything in the cabinets rumbled for a second. He slumped to the floor, leaving Ilisha to think he fainted.
    “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” she asked, bending down looking into his eyes.
    “Do me a favor?” he whispered.
    “Okay.”
    “Get rid of that pot before your mother comes home—in two minutes.”
    “You know when my mom will be home?”
    He disappeared right before her eyes without answering. She swiped the air where he sat and found nothing but a cold spot. Ilisha stood there trying to grasp what had happened. Hearing the storm door open she