I have seen the silver butterflies all my life. They do not look grey, but as if they are made from actual silver. I was told when I was young to stop talking about the butterflies. I did.
When I was 12, I suddenly didn't see the butterflies anymore. I never told anyone this. I just figured everyone was right, they were imaginary. I was too old for silly things like that.
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I sat in my history class, reading a book. Wuthering Heights. Really good, actually. I didn't expect it to be so, but I was drawn into the complexities.
"Ohmigosh! That movie was SO sad!" a girl in my class called out.
The class had my attention, at least for a moment.
"That was a real thing?!" another girl called out. What were they talking about?I looked up at the screen, where a picture of the sinking of the Titanic was displayed.
I snorted loudly, causing many heads to swivel my way. I turned back to my book, focusing on Heathcliff and Catherine. What a complex love story.
The teacher hushed everyone down, and when back to explaining.
"Catherine's fate was just like the landscape-- shadows and sunshine flitting over it in-" I couldn't read the next words, because sitting on the page, was a silver butterfly. Not greyish, but an actual metallic silver. The light reflected off of it and attempted to blind me.
I brushed a hand over the page, trying to swipe the bug away, but it disappeared into thin air just as my finger touched it. The only remnant of it's existence was a small silver sign, looking somewhat like a cross, where the butterfly had been. Something about the sign gave me deja vu.
I stared at the sign, trying to remember where I had seen it before. As I stared, the sign became lighter and lighter, until it was gone.
"... rapid succession;" I continued.
I reached into my sweater pocket and pulled out my phone. Earbuds went into my ears and I distracted myself with the tones of a punk song.
"Chrissy has her phone out!" one of the Titanic girls called out, pointing at me.
"We are focusing on the Titanic now," the teacher said calmly. Titanic girl turned around, but not before I gave her a smirk.
The bell rang, and I grabbed my bag to go on to the next class. I pushed through the halls, before finally slumping down in my Journalism class. A few moments later, one of my best friends sat down next to me.
Her dark brown curls bounced slightly as she smiled at me. She looked cute, but she was the kind of girl who would kill you for no reason. It was best to stay on her good side, unless you were me.
"Hey, Ravenna." I said as I opened up my book again.
"You need to work. The assignment is almost due."
I rolled my eyes and started to read. "I think you have me confused for someone who cares."
She logged on to the computer we shared, and began working on her most recent news story. She was a gifted writer, and she put it to good use on the newspaper. I, on the other hand, used journalism as a free period. I could write just as good as her, but I didn't want to have to work. I was fine just reading and surfing the internet.
A chapter later, she turned to me. "Done. Are you gonna do yours, or do you want me to?"
I shrugged. Ravenna opened a new document, titled it with "Chrissy Edwards Journ. Assignment, Is. 3"
YOU ARE READING
Metamorphosis
Teen FictionChrissy Edwards was an odd girl, anyone would have said so. She made average grades, but all the major tests said she was a genius. She didn't have many friends, and the ones she did have were just as odd as her. She always seemed to read or doodle...