Congratulations to Emma S., 9th grade, Mineola High School for being named one of the Young Voices November Winner!
Emma’s short is a beautifully reflective story about transformation and freedom. In this poetic piece, the narrator chases an elusive butterfly in a garden, only to fall asleep and dream of becoming one. This story invites readers to explore themes of wonder, identity, and the beauty of nature.
“Eyes of the butterfly”
As I sit outside and gaze into the life above, the butterfly flies through the sky and lands on a blue flower next to where I sit. I glance over at the butterfly, and notice it among the other flowers. It looked like gold out with copper. I could see the butterfly land on the flower and reflect the vehement orange off its wings. I ran over to the butterfly to catch the butterfly but it wouldn’t attract my magnet. Therefore I chase after the butterfly, fleeing me from my garden. I grabbed, and grabbed the butterfly, swinging my arms trying to find my pet. But my pet didn’t come home. Dissatisfied with the outcome, I walk moping back to my blue blanket and I lay down with the grass. Worn out from running, I decided to close my eyes.
In my dream, I wake up on a branch on a tall tree. I look around and notice I have two bright orange wings. First I stumble trying to balance the wings in equalibrum. Once I get it, I’m ready to fly. The sun opens up from the hidden green leaves, and I try to jump, but I don’t. I question if I should fly or I should hide. The sun reflects the orange on my wings, creating my own light. And with all of my might, I push away from the branch and there! I was in the air and soaring through the blue skies. Through twists and turning my wings, I am flying through the air! The feeling feels serene through me, it feels great! All of a sudden, I noticed a hand grabbing at me, one hand after another swinging at me, trying to capture me. I duck and duck dodging the hands reaching at me. Zoom, zoom, zoom! I fly through kids' hands and continue to soar. I come upon a flower field and looking back at the kids, running to the flutter of my wings, I fly over to this blue flower. It reminds me of lying on the blue blanket that I once laid on. Then I look up and the walls of my wings cave in, and sooner or later, I was gone.
I awaken back to life, laying on the blue blanket. I wonder what just happened. I look at the orange butterfly sitting on the blue flower, noticing I was once a butterfly too.
