Inner voice

It was a quiet day. Nothing special. The window was wide open. There was a noice coming from mouthes of folks. There was dust coming from tires of vehicles.

Only uniqueness of that day was brought by the butterfly that flew and sat on the window sill.

Its wings decorated with triangular patterns were black at the edge. It was bright orange.

" You think that this butterfly's colour is orange, right?" said the smooth and calming voice in her mind. Someone's hand gently touched her shoulders. "It is not orange. It is only an illusion. Play of light. The play that makes you believe it's orange..."

She felt a cold going through her body. Her fingers were holding the window sill so tightly, that they became white because of the pressure.

"You don't exist, I know" - was the only response that she whispered to the silence in the room.

A single tear drop rolled down her cheek. Sun rays fell directly to her eyes forcing her to avert her eyes. The light went through the thin skin of closed eyelids. It seemed that everything was orange and warm. It seemed that the cold morning stopped existing. She smiled. It felt like she was swimming in the pool of warm melted milk chocolate. It felt like she was slowly melting and turning into smth else.

"BANG!" the door behind her back slummed shut so loud, that her world dissapeared in a second and left her in the arms of cold reality. She was not prepared for it. Fear mixed with sadness were pulling her down. And there was something that helped her. It ran a hand over her forehead. It was a spring wind. Wind that brought her back into life and calmed her.

" Everything will be just fine. Trust me." - said the voice. It was not the voice from her memory. Not from the past. Not his voice. It was her own voice. Inner voice.

She trusted it.