Purple Butterfly
By the age of ten, Chris couldn’t dream of a better life. He lived right next to the Pacific Beach in San Diego. A caring mother, a guiding father, and his best friend, Samantha, made life worth living. Because of their friendship, he had believed there was a God. It was on his eleventh birthday, his greed for an extra video game had his mother rammed by a black SUV with robbers. He watched in grief as her blood melted on the hot asphalt.
Chris was held accountable for her demise. He didn’t deny it either. He was just a boy, but now his dreams had turned into nightmares. He forgot how to smile, where the sun rises, the joy of playing football, or when his stomach had a calling for hunger. He gave up on living, on God, on Samantha, and refused to look at his suffering father in the eyes. How could he take the life of the woman this man loved so much? Whose other life has he taken unknowingly?
Then, just as death couldn’t come to him, (after his innumerable suicidal attempts) he met Lina. She was his classmate, the girl with the purple butterfly tattoo. She came to him on purpose. Eventually, Lina warned him that he was not alone. She said they’re listening and watching. More importantly, after seeing the other part of her, he needed to know if she could help him. And who was she?
I honestly wasn’t prepared for how deeply Purple Butterfly would touch me. I felt so emotionally connected to Chris. His pain was raw, his silence was loud, and watching him slowly find his way back to life through the mysterious and beautiful Lina broke me in the best way. The twist about her identity gave me full body chills. As someone who’s struggled with depression, the theme that "you're not alone" felt so personal. This book is heartbreaking, hopeful, and healing. It reminded me that grace often shows up in the most unexpected forms. I’ll be thinking about this one for a long time.
Alliyah Roman, author
I went into Purple Butterfly not expecting much—and ended up genuinely moved. Chris’s character is layered, haunted, and real. The story captures the quiet torment of trauma and survivor’s guilt with uncomfortable honesty. But what makes it unforgettable is the spiritual thread—how it leans into the idea of unseen helpers and divine timing without being preachy. Lina was fascinating, and the reveal of who she really is? Totally caught me off guard. The writing is poetic but grounded, and the pacing is steady. If you're someone who appreciates stories that dive deep into the soul and offer light at the end of the tunnel, this is worth reading.
James T.
