Butterfly:(noun)

Butterflies are deep and powerful representations of life. Many cultures associate the butterfly with our souls. The Christian religion sees the butterfly as a symbol of resurrection. Around the world, people view the butterfly as representing endurance, change, hope, and life.  

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Joe

The first horrible thing I noticed when my eyes flickered open was the sunlight radiating through my opened blind, and then the throbbing in both my temples, followed by a growing sickness feeling in the pit of my stomach. That feeling only grew stronger and forced me from my bed and into the bathroom, where I ended up sitting on the floor with my head in the toilet bowl.

"Joe, are you alright in here?"

I didn't have time to reply to my mum because I began spilling out the substances in my stomach. My hands held onto the end of the bowl tightly, as the acid once again ran out of my mouth.

I have no memory of the events from last night, it was my best friends idea to go to the club, she was supposed to meet me there and guess what? She didn't even turn up! So when I see her next, guess who's not going to be breathing very long, Billy Johnson, may she rest in pieces.

When I'm finally able to sit up, with my right hand I wipe my mouth and turn my head towards the bathroom door. Mum stands there with a glass of water and two pills in her hand.

"I'm fine mum," I don't know what's the point of trying to convince her is, because she's wearing the 'I know you're not.' look. "Billy and I went to a club last night, but before you say anything. No, I did not have sex, I'm still a virgin." 

Yeah, my mum is religious and believes in sex after marriage, which is one of the reasons I kept my virginity. But come to think of it, I'm a little sore downstairs; like an ache. 

"Take these pills and you'll be fine, it'll get rid of your hangover." Mum places the glass and pills on the bathroom sink. "I'll cook us some breakfast." She smiles weakly at me and leaves the bathroom.

Pushing myself off the ground I slowly walk over to the door and lock it before walking over the to sink. I look in the mirror and nearly fucking die because my reflection looks like something the cat dragged in.

"I look like utter shit," I mumble to myself while my hands pull down my flowery Pj bottoms, I turn around so my back is facing the mirror. Pulling the Pj shirt over my head I turn to face the mirror and toss my Pj's into the- "What the fuck?" 

My eyes are narrowed at my stomach and brows furrowed, "WHAT THE FUCK!" I release a scream but quickly shut my mouth.

I can feel my heart beating so rapidly inside my chest it feels like I'm going to have a heart attack.

"This isn't real," I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes I'll wake up from this nightmare. But when I reopen them, I just gaze upon my now marked skin. "I have fucking tattoos!" 

That's correct, ladies and gentlemen there is a big fat butterfly sitting below my belly button and to make matters worse there are the words HIS Territory above it.

My mum is going to kill me! I repeat she's going to kill me! I guess I should start organising my funeral. 

With shaky hands, I reach for my phone that sits next to the glass of water my future murderer got me. Dialling the only person I know who can save me, I try to calm my breathing.

Her phone rings two, three, four, five... "PICK UP! PICK UP THE PHONE YOU BLOODY BITC-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Billy, thank god you-"

"Yeah, yeah, what's the emergency?"

Rolling my eyes I gaze upon the tattoos, "Well one, you didn't show up last night, so I ended up going to the club by myself and two-" Here goes nothing. "IhavetatoosonmychestandIthinkIlostmyvirginitybutIdon'trememberanythingthathappenedlastnightbecauseIkindagotdrunk..."

"Woah, girl! How many times have I told you, I don't understand your gibberish? Slow down and start from the beginning-" Wait for it, "Hang on, did you just say-" Here it comes, "Holy shit! What the hell J! You finally got a tattoo!?"

"Yes but-"

"Well, what did you get? and where did you get it?"

"Billy, it's not cool. If mum finds out, oh my god... I'm gonna die..." I begin to pace around the bathroom, trying to wrap my head around the situation. "I'm so dead!" 

"Relax, breathe in slowly and out." I do as she instructs and I take slow but deep breaths. "I'm sure it's not that-"

"I have a huge fucking butterfly tattoo across my stomach with the words His Territory above it! How is this not that bad!?" I'm seriously about to rip my hair out. "I'm in deep shit Billy, I don't know what to do." 

Looking at the large tattoo that covers most of my stomach below my belly button, I can't begin to imagine why I would get a butterfly. I know my mum always said, butterflies are a symbol of life, if you believe that sort of stuff. But I think I've seen this butterfly before, I just can't seem to pinpoint it.

Billy pulls me back to reality by saying, "Start from the beginning, what do you remember?"

Thinking back to last night makes me want to punch something, "I just remember having a drink at the bar and some guy tried hitting on me, but nothing else."

"Hmm, that's all?"

"Yeah, and Billy-" I glide my fingers over the sensitive marked skin and then dip them into my underwear and when they come into contact with my opening; I hiss. "I don't think I'm a virgin anymore.."

"WHAT!?"

"I think I had sex, but I can't remember," Pulling my hand from my underwear, I just stare at myself in the mirror. "I look like death."

"You're going to be fine, look I'll see you at work okay? we can talk about it then, just try to be cool with your mum."

"Right, thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome babe, later." Before I can reply the line goes dead.

Yeah, thanks for nothing.

"Joe, your brother needs to use the bathroom, can you hurry up?" I hear my father's voice rings through the house.

Great, just fucking great. That means all of my happy little family are downstairs.

I quickly change into my work clothes, but when I put my red short skirt on, I notice to letters on my lower stomach; H.S.

Yay, more tattoos, although I wonder what H.S stands for. Doesn't matter because I'm so going to die. It's fine, though, all I have to do is cover up the tattoos, make sure no one sees them and everything will be fine. 

Moving my hands to the roots of my hair, I tug harshly at them and groan.

Who am I kidding? My father is the best detective in London and my mothers a religious Psychiatrist. 

Here lays Joe Hemmings.

May She Rest In Peace.

The cause of Death: Killed by parents. 

"If there is a god out there, he must hate me," I say slipping on my works black t-shirt, looks like StarBright Cafe are going to be one worker less. 

"Joey hurry up! I need a piss! or my dic-"

Quickly I run towards the door, unlocking it, I say, "I'm hurrying, geez, I don't want to know about that tiny willy of yours." 

The door flies open and nearly hits me in the face, and my asshole brother runs in holding his crotch. 

"If you don't get the hell out, I'm going to piss in your face."

I throw my hands in the air and exit the bathroom. "Don't worry you're not the only one who's going to do something with my face," I mutter as the bathroom door slams shut. "Was nice knowing you, Luke."

"Ahhhhhhh, that feels much better." He moans, loudly.

I just shake my head and head towards the staircase leading towards my death.

I swear, I'm going to find the person who did this to me and when I do they better fucking run because I'll be the reason they died. 

A/N: If you're reading this, it means you've actually read through Joe's um, breakdown? LOL.... Harry will come into it soon, so don't worry all you Harry lovers.