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Prize Eyes

The breeze filled the branches of the trees as I strolled home from school. May was always my favorite month. I enjoyed the fresh air and stunningly bright sunlight. Today was different though, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. It made me uneasy and I wobbled as I walked, keeping my head down. A glimmer of orange on the pavement startled me, and I bent down to see what it was. It appeared to be a crumpled flower. I decided to leave it and let it blow away, until It moved. It's black, lifeless eyes were unveiled, and I could smell the desperation. It took me a few moments to realize it was a hurt butterfly. Her wings we're flaky and deformed, and at that moment I knew, she would never make it. I decided it would be best to make her last few moments memorable, so I carefully scooped her up and took her home.
I threw open the front door and kicked off my shoes. I yelled out, but no reply. I guess it was just me and my beautiful butterfly. I took her to my bedroom, grabbing an old two liter bottle on the way. I cut off the top, and put some tissues in the bottom. I placed her in, carefully, and set her in the sun on my windowsill.
"you'll need a name," I whispered to her, "I'm not letting you go without a name." I examined her broken body, and found the only design remaining on her wings were brown and black eyes. "prize eyes" I said, and she fluttered her wings in approval. A beautiful name for a beautiful butterfly.
My next task was food. I remembered learning that butterflies drink nectar from flowers. I went out to the garden, picked the brightest ones, and brought them back for Prize Eyes.at first she just looks at me with her depressed eyes, but eventually she stuck out her long tongue, and began drinking. I screamed with joy, maybe this little butterfly will make it after all.
Next week at school, we went to the butterfly pavilion. I wandered off from my group and found an employee. I told him my story, and he said "butterflies only live 2 weeks." I looked into the mans blind creamy eyes and said "not my butterfly." I stormed off in anger. Luckily, I learned that day that I could feed prize eyes sugar water on a cotton ball. I did that everyday. Some days I took her outside and waved her around in my hands, so she could pretend she could fly. I knew she was happy. Her eyes turned a lively shiny black, and her wings weren't as flaky. She was mine. The first thing that was ever truly mine.
On prize eyes' fifth week birthday, I gave her an extra large sugar water Cotton ball, as her cake. It was one of the best days of my life. She was only supposed to live 2 weeks, instead she lived 5. I put her in her bottle as I cleaned up. When I came back to get her, the life was drained from her eyes again. Tears streamed down my face as I picked her up. She was cold, and shaking. I ran outside and held her in the sun, trying to bring the life back to her. I felt my heart sink deeper and deeper as she faded away, until she was gone. I yelled at the heavens, angered by her sudden birthday death. It wasn't fair.
I buried her body in a painted box, right under her favorite flowers. I sang to her and I filled in the dirt. When it was over, I smiled. She was the most important thing in my entire life, and she always will be.




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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

DanielM said...
May 26, 2012 at 8:50 am:
I found this very good. And very interesting. Suggestion: I would write in paragraphs and when the line with people talk it would be good if it's separate. Anyhow keep it up.
 
meaganmcole replied...
May 28, 2012 at 6:00 pm :
I always try to keep the format proper. However, I had my friend submit this one and he just copied and pasted. I appreciate your feedback though! Thanks for reading! :)
 
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