The Butterfly Effect

"If anyone finds this it means my plan didn’t work and I’m already dead. But if I can somehow go back to the beginning of all of this I might be able to save her."

Thirteen Years Earlier

The early morning birds chirp as crocket and I rough house in the front yard. I laugh and pull with all the strength I have as he tugs and growls all at the same time. "Ashley!" My mother calls out to me. Laughing I drop my end of the rope and run up the small hill to my mothers car.

"We’re gonna be late again."

She screws some part back onto her car. "Don’t worry, we have plenty of time, and since when are you worried about getting to school on time?"

"We’re putting up pictures for parents night…" She removes the blue mechanic’s outfit, with a timid voice I ask "Is Dad gonna be there?"

"You know the answer to that." She says.

Still, I can’t help but plead my case. "Why can’t he just come out for one day? Aiden said his dad’s coming, and Glen and Spencer’s dad." I say with a whine.

"We’ve been over this Ashley." She walks by me to the drivers side of the car. "I’m not so bad am I?"

With a shake of my head I answer no and can’t help but smile when I hear the rev of the engine.

~

"I wanted to show this to the principle but I thought it would be better if I spoke to you first."

"What is it?" I question in a rushed tone, knowing I’m already late for work.

"Yesterday I had the class draw pictures of what they want to be when they grow up. Most of them drew pictures of what their parents did. But Ashley…" Abruptly she ceases to speak and from the look on her face I know she isn’t sure how to say what needs to be said.

I scan the classroom for my daughter while her teacher fumbles through some drawer. We make eye contact, Ashley smiles up at me, a little uneasy I return it.

"Take a look at this."

I’m horrified. There is no other way to explain it. The picture is of three people, two of them are colored mostly red, while the third person stands on top of the two figures, a blood-dripping knife in hand.

"Are you saying that Ashley, my Ashley drew this?" I question in a shaky voice. She simply nods. "Can I uh… keep this?"

"Yes, but there is one more thing… When I asked Ashley about the drawing she didn’t remember ever drawing it."

And somehow knowing what I know about her father the fact that she can’t even remember drawing it hits me harder than the picture itself.

Two days later

"Please tell me she hasn’t inherited his fathers illness."

~

Thoughts?