I’m your butterfly.

Shades of black and blue.

As fragile as a child’s heart.

Able to take care of myself,

But dependent on other things.

Contradictory to logic and

Ignorant of the other things

around me.

I’m you butterfly.

favorite part of my short story

You're probably wondering why you picked this up or why you're reading it. I'm quite surprised you even made it to the end. At this point you are wondering how I know you finished it. Right? It’s because right now i can see you. You're also probably wondering why the words are written on the page predicting the future as it happens. You're not going to know how that work, and thats mostly because i don't feel like telling you.
I'm going to warn you this one time. DON'T TURN AROUND.There are very few who actually get to read this so consider yourself special. This whole story happened and I am real. And its a warning. Don't ever go into that house in your town. You know the one i'm talking about. Its your towns equivalent of the Anderson house. You're too good for me to take. Keep it that way so i don't regret warning you.

- The Collector

I really liked writing in a second person view point.

The Hiking Trail

I heard the bone dry dirt crunch under my feet. The bushes on the side of the trail lightly scraped across my legs.  Light sifted in through the trees making yellow dots appear on the ground. Jagged grey rocks stuck up at awkward angles out of the dirt path. The trees opened up to reveal a beach. There was a dry log about ten feet from the shoreline. The waves made an audible crash on the sand. The sky was fairly clear with a few fluffy clouds. The sand under my feet was soft and shifted slightly under my feet. The wind made the leaves on the not too distant trees rustle.

            Something by my foot caught my attention. It was thin and jagged. It was barely sticking out of the sand, and I couldn't tell what it was. I used my thumb and index finger to gently pull it out of the sand. The sand fell away from it and I examined it on my lap. It was about the size of my fist and was very thin. It was a crab shell. Thankfully it didn't have the crab in it. It was as if someone had carved it out to just have the back shell. I ran my hand over the top part of the shell feeling small bumps. It was a tan color like the sand and there were two holes where the eyes used to stick out. I flipped it over and felt the inside. It was as white as an eggshell and was smooth lacking the bumps the top had.

            I turned it over in my hands a few times studying it. I wondered how long it took for a crab to decay into just a shell. It didn't even smell rotten like you would expect it to. I didn't have the heart to throw it back into the ocean, and burying it in the sand just didn't feel right. I gently ran my hand over the dull spikes that pointed out on the sides. I made up my mind and decided to bring it back with me.  I headed back to the campground wondering if my parents were awake yet. I couldn't wait to tell them what I had found.