Killing Jar

I ran down to the park after asking my mum to let me go and I found Steffy on the swing set. She had been acting awkward towards me for a while now, and when I told my mum about it she had just replied with a ‘it’s a teenage thing, nothing to be worried about’.

I couldn’t help but feel that she didn’t like me anymore, after all, what fifteen year old girl in secondary school could every possibly be friends with a year 5, it just wasn’t the done thing.

I kicked a stone in her direction and smiled when she turned her head to face me.

“Hey, Emily,” she smiled slightly and I continued my smile, walking over towards her.

I grabbed the swing next to the one she was on and started pushing my legs. Steffy was the one who had first taught me how to swing when I was seven years old, I had loved watching her swing higher and higher and wanted to try so myself. So Steffy and gotten off of her swing and started to push me, telling me how to swing my legs back and forth in the right timing to get up. In for up and out for down.

I practiced everyday.

I wanted to be able to swing over the bars; to reach beyond the skies. To be able to soar into the fluffy clouds and be free, to feel like a bird. To go wherever I wanted.

I sighed and started to push myself up and up, getting to Steffy’s height on the swing and continuing to get myself higher.

Steffy laughed slightly, but it sounded slightly forced – almost as if she wasn’t really laughing – and I looked down at her, a smile on my face.

“Keep going,” she encouraged and I nodded my head, pushing myself up and up.

I knew I was above the bar, and I knew that I wasn’t possibly ever going to go all the way around – I’ve tried many times before, it just doesn’t work.

I stopped pushing with my legs and just let myself swing at the swings own pace, not bothering about height anymore.

“Why did you stop?” she asked and I shook my head at her.

I was only 10 years old, of course she didn’t really want to be around me – but I still appreciated the fact that she stuck around, even if she didn’t want to. My mum wouldn’t say anything about it, even when I asked her if Steffy had been going off me a bit. Mum just said ‘it’s a teenage thing’, making me want to be a teenager even more. I can’t wait till I’m older, and Steffy will want me back again. So I can move out, and live in my own house. Maybe Steffy can live with me in it, and she can bring her butterflies with her – and we can have a room just for them.

We can share a bedroom, and it’ll be like sleepovers every night – that would be so cool. I’d get to share a bed with her all the time, like I used to every weekend when I was younger. And she’d read me a story or just put me to sleep in her bed.

Steffy’s swing came to a stop and I looked at her, placing my feet on the ground to stop myself from dangling and she smiled at me and held her hand out, grabbing onto mine.

“Come on, I want to show you my new butterfly,” she grinned and we ran off to her house.

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She pulled me into the green house and over to the side where she pointed to the new butterfly. I still had no idea where she got them, and I wanted one so badly. They were so cute, and so pretty – like the ones that flew in the park on hot days. Today was a hot day, and I’m sure I saw Steffy looking at a few that were sitting on flowers.

I looked up at the glass jar and saw the butterfly. Taking in all of it’s details; from the black tips that had white spots, through the change into a light brown colour, then back into the black coloured wings with black spots. Noting all of the slight fading of colour here and there as the butterfly lay motionless on a twig Steffy had placed in the glass jar.

I looked up at her, a smile on my face, “it’s really nice – where did you get it?” I asked her and she chuckled while ruffling my dark brown hair a little.

“It is, isn’t it? That’s a Fritillaries Butterfly – I got it from the park we were just in. One day I’ll show you how I catch them,” she smiled at me before taking me back out of the glass house and towards her brick house.

Fritillaries Butterfly