The Magic Female Butterfly
Long, long ago in a scorching, wet rainforest, where the leaves of trees were covered in sweat, lived a poor family. They had: a sister called Vigo, a boy called Cancy, and a...
Stories
Original fiction by young writers ages 8-13
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Long, long ago in a scorching, wet rainforest, where the leaves of trees were covered in sweat, lived a poor family. They had: a sister called Vigo, a boy called Cancy, and a mother, but the father was killed by a crocodile.
One day, when Vigo was exploring the jungle, a vivid spark fluttered past. It was a butterfly but not an ordinary one because it was speaking.
My name is George. I’m a six-year-old boy. I have a nose-picking brother who annoys me constantly. I want to be a scientist. Specifically, I want to make a drink that will make people live forever. My mom and dad tell me that I have a good imagination. I tell my parents that I have 100 in science, and in every other subject, my grade is an 80. Also, I have won four science fair projects.
Ra-ra-ra. Raurau-ra… An extraordinary barking cry shattered the frosty air. A huge black eagle settled itself on an icy birch limb. Ruffling his feathers against the chill, he stretched his enormous wings one last time before settling them comfortably on his back.
Long, long ago, in the days when dinosaurs roamed, and the earth was filled with lush, green grass, the first people were born.
The gods shaped them from the mud of the earth, dropping them on the soft ground and giving them shelter from harsh weather.
In the time before humans, the gods were lonely.
Captain Vistyz Stausk paced the command center of her ship. It had been her father’s ship, but he had passed onto the next multiverse a Sastorian year ago. Captain Stausk missed Sastorus, but she missed her father more, and thus stayed with his ship.
She had been given a commission to either find and destroy or rehabilitate particularly malignant species.
The ferocious waves slapped against the shoreline, spitting mist and bits of white foam into the crisp air. The gray clouds conquering the sky like a vast cotton blanket of darkness responded with the occasional crack of thunder. Rain beat down hard onto the backs of seagulls desperately searching for cover. The gloom was a plague that reached the toes of everything in the vicinity.
“Cousins!” I hear a little voice call. Two small, sticky hands wrap themselves around my legs. I see two shining blue eyes beaming up at me.
“Pauline!” I turn around to see Uncle Brendan and Aunt Kathy striding toward me, warm smiles spread across their faces. I hug my uncle, and immediately I inhale the sweet, piercing fragrance of pine trees, a whole forest of them.
The sky’s vibrant gray was an embodiment of metallic hues colliding. Smothering the arid landscape like a hazy hand. The shrill, choppy thrilling of the desert songbirds forewarned of night’s arrival. It would soon engulf the soothing ash-stricken contour in its obsidian abyss. A boy treaded through the sandy asphalt of the neighborhood, shoes clomping steadily in a monotonous rhythm.
“Cousins!” I hear a little voice call. Two small, sticky hands wrap themselves around my legs. I see two shining blue eyes beaming up at me.
“Pauline!” I turn around to see Uncle Brendan and Aunt Kathy striding toward me, warm smiles spread across their faces. I hug my uncle, and immediately I inhale the sweet, piercing fragrance of pine trees, a whole forest of them.
We were at the airport. We were there for a good reason. To go to America.
My dad had stayed in America for two years.The reason for this was to get a job and be able to take me and Grandma Nicole there to live. But while he was there, the stock markets crashed and Dad lost a lot of money. But he did find a job eventually, so we are moving there now.