Butterfly Diaries A teen on a quest to be a better writer

Category Archives: Drama

Roaring Slug Submission- Siv

Every month the Humboldt NaNoWrimo group puts out an ebook called the Roaring Slug. We have a monthly prompt that everyone follows and this month is was a character prompt.

Siv, a folklorist with night terrors.

Here is my submission:

Although the sun going down means it’s time to wind down the day to most people, it does not mean the same to writers. Siv was 52 years old and had been writing short stories his entire adult life. He had always preferred writing to sleeping. Stay up and teach the lessons that he was never taught. That had always been his passion. Sadly he never got any published. They were said to be too scary for children. Siv thought they were just right. He picked up a stack of papers and found one of the first he wrote.

Stay close Robert! I don’t want you to go to the big kid playground. Stay here so I can see you from the car. I need to go change David’s diaper.”

But mom I just want to go for a minute!” Robert’s mom shot him a strict glare that he knew the meaning of, and turned her back to go to the dull red mini van. He spent all his days in school, thinking about the swings with the real chains that go way higher then the stupid baby swings on the red playground. He was in the first grade now. Maybe his mom just didn’t know what she was talking about.

Robert looked over and saw his mother struggling. She hadn’t even opened the van yet. She was holding her phone and his little brother at the same time. He had a good ten minutes. From where she was there was no one she could watch him. He had to take the chance.

The big kid playground was empty so he wouldn’t even have to wait for a swing. It was a sign from the universe. Robert got up from the sandbox, brushed off his jeans and walked over. As he hopped onto the swing a bit too tall for him, he remembered the struggles of swinging alone. His legs were not strong enough to pump as high as he dreamt of swinging. After a couple minutes of trying, he felt a firm push on his back.

Who are you!?” He shouted almost loud enough to catch his mother’s attention. The figure pushing him was a lean homeless looking man wearing a rugged grey jacket much to big for him.

The man spoke in a sporadic voice. “Moms don’t understand. You aren’t a baby anymore. You are a big kid. Don’t you have a dad around? Guys always know what is up.”

Not knowing to be worried around the stranger, Robert replied, “I don’t have a dad. I want to find one though.”

Well, your mom obviously doesn’t understand you anyway. I’ll be your dad. Listen, I have this tire swing at my house. It’s way better. You should come along.”

Okay, as long as I’m back soon so my mom doesn’t worry.” Robert agreed ignorantly.

Your mother will be fine if you come with me.”

When Robert got to the man’s house, he was a bit scared to go in, so he went straight to the backyard to find the tire swing.

It’s around the back, son.” The man encouraged. Robert kept going and found himself in a corner. He turned around confused and saw the man had a dog collar and a big rock in his hand. The man hit him in the head with the rock and chained him up by the neck in an old shed. When Robert woke up he could barely talk. He croaked out, “I want my mom. Take me to my mom.”

The man laughed. “You didn’t want your mom. You wanted a dad. Come on son. You’re MINE now.” Robert started crying

Three days later, Robert’s body was found beaten and bloody in the same park he was lost at. The cops couldn’t figure out how the body got back in the park when they were patrolling it. They never suspected the janitor.

Siv tossed it aside. “Bullshit.” He said to himself. It didn’t take much to empty out this off white room. The walls were cement and covered with dirt. There was only one small window and it was too high for him to see out of, not that there was a view anyway. He missed the world that fed him smiles and laughter, ice cream and candy. It seemed like he hadn’t been outside in years. He hadn’t written in years either. Perhaps those two things correlated. There simply wasn’t any inspiration here. He picked up another one of his stories. They were like memories to him now.

Destiny was a very sassy girl. She whined whenever she had a slight reason.

There aren’t enough sprinkles on my ice cream!”

There are too many sprinkles on my ice cream!”

We already went to this park yesterday, I want to go to a new one!”

My shoes are dirty. Get me new ones!”

Her mum and dad worked hard and she spent all her time with a nanny who waited on her hand and foot. Destiny was a very naughty girl and never got punished for it so it only got worse. When she was 12 years old, she thought she ruled the world. She owned the title she wore on a sash- “Princess Destiny”. When your parents are rich and your friends are paid to be with you, no one argues or punishes you.

When her father died in a plane accident flying home from work, things changed for little bratty Destiny. Her mum decided to take an enlightening trip of self discovery to Rome, and Destiny was suddenly living with an aunt she had never met.

Her new house was only one story and there wasn’t a pool or a playroom. Destiny hated it and made it very known. Her aunt ignored her most of the time but a man lived in the house as well. For the first week or so, he ignored her too. He would sit on the other side of the room and watch as she threw temper tantrums.

I hate this food. I want beef wellington not Kraft mac and cheese.”

Where is the maid? No one made my bed. Someone is getting fired.”

I am SO bored. I need a new toy.”

I want to go to the movies. This ipad isn’t even in HD.”

The man watched her, building more disgust and anger toward her spoiled, ungrateful ways. He knew something needed to be done to teach her a lesson and no one else seemed to be stepping up to the plate.

One day she was throwing a fit after dinner. “It’s your fault we had ribs. I am not going to wash my hands until after you give me dessert. I don’t want to wash them twice. You shouldn’t have given me messy food if you didn’t want me to make a mess. This is really all your fault.”

The man couldn’t take it anymore. He raised the butcher’s knife he used to separate the ribs from the rest of the pig, and slammed it down before Destiny could think of moving her hand. The dark red of her blood mixed with the barbeque sauce creating a crimson palette on the cheap china. She started to scream but it didn’t shake him from his fury. Within two minutes she had no fingers and a knife in her chest cavity.

She learned a lesson that day. She would never disrespect an adult again.

That was the worst story he had ever completed. It angered him so. He recalled having to fight tooth and nail for his box of manuscripts and shit like that made him feel really stupid about it. It was the last fight he would have though, and he knew it. He searched through the boxes to find a happier memory but all he could find was unfinished crap he regretted writing down.

Charlie’s siblings would never let him play with anything. They were all older and meaner. When they got to drive the car, Charlie couldn’t even sit in the front. They were allowed to cook and wouldn’t even let him stir. When he was throwing a fit at the park and a stranger let him light the barbeque, he was so excited…until the man set him on fire.

In Portland, it was usual to talk to everyone as if they were friends. Little Casey decided to only talk to those she liked. She judged books by their covers. She didn’t talk to him. She regretted it when he gouged out her eyes.

5 year olds should look both ways before crossing the street. Otherwise strong men might snatch them by their blonde pigtails.

Little boy named Jesus- got from Safeway when he threw his broccoli on the ground. Growing kids need their vegetables.

Cheyanne 9 in the canyon- not wearing the right shoes.

They weren’t even stories in the end. Just field notes. He threw them all on the ground and started to scream. He hadn’t slept in three days. Between the flashbacks and the ticking clock he just couldn’t anymore. The pile of papers on the cement floor looked more inviting than what was supposed to be a bed, so he laid and fell asleep.

When he woke up, there were two officers at his door, about to drag him to the only room he feared more than his current home. As they strapped him into the chair, he stared into the medical grade light on his face and listened silently. There was no point in screaming again.

“Samuel “Siv” Davidson. Death penalty appointed by the Supreme Court of the United States of America for 27 counts of kidnap and murder of a minor. Do you have any last words, Mr. Davidson?”

He closed his eyes, remembering everything important in his life and managed to say out loud, “I hope they learned their lessons.”

Reflections- Prompt Story 6/29/14

Dierdre had just turned 52 years old but was living the life of a woman much older. She had no family and lived on a small alcove on the coast of Oregon. At 40 years old she had moved here for more peace then the city offered. When loneliness consumed her she opened theWool-y Mammoth. It was a wool store and spinning area in an old beer warehouse. Between the secluded location and the niche market there was not much business. Most of the people who came in were travelers looking for a bathroom. However, she didn’t lose too much money and it was what she did with most of her time alone.

` The life Dierdre lived was not a bad one. When she wasn’t spending time at the Mammoth she was walking on the beach. Her house faced one about 4 miles long and always empty. Every morning when the sun rose it would reflect against the sea glass that lined the water line. It was uncommon for tourists to visit so the sea glass just piled up remaining untouched. On a particularly gorgeous morning, Dierdre was walking in the water instead of on the sand and could see her reflection in each individual stone she passed. Her hair was a fading light brown and her eyes were nothing spectacular. The most lookworthy feature of her face was her larger Jewish nose, but it certainly didn’t make her look ordinary.

She walked almost the entire span of the beach when she noticed her reflection started to look a little different. A little younger. She started walking faster and the stones showed a younger and younger face. Her hair got darker and eyes seemed brighter. She was wearing orange and green clothes and couldn’t have looked more than 12 years old. Dierdre looked at her hands to confirm she wasn’t really getting younger somehow. She saw the same worn and callused hands she worked with every day but when she looked at the stones, there was a girl who looked like herself 40 years ago.

After looking around, she decided to let herself be crazy for a second, and speak to the girl she was staring at. “H..hello?” Her voice caught. The last time she vocalized was probably three solid days ago.

In a shrill, childish voice the reflection responded. “Hi! I am Gwen! I am looking for the treasure on the beach!” Everything she said seemed to have an exclamation mark at the end. Dierdre had no idea what to do. She took a step back and looked back at the sun. Had she passed out and was dreaming or was she truly going crazy? She glanced back down at the glass stones and the young girl who identified as Gwen was still there. “So do you know where it is? I am trying to make a map!”

Dierdre was beyond confused and sure she was dreaming but decided to go along with it. She responded, “I am not sure what treasure you are referring to, uh Gwen is it?”
“Yeah, don’t you remember me? I am an adventurer! We are looking for the magic conch.”

“Remember you? Have we met before?” There was a vague resemblance but Dierdre could not tell her apart from the children she used to work with. Gwen didn’t respond, she just looked around seemingly at the same time that Dierdre did. “Okay well, let’s look, I guess. You want a conch shell?”

“The magical conch! The one we have been looking for all week!”

She didn’t understand what the girl was saying but started walking back along the beach kicking the sea glass, looking for a conch. They weren’t often on this beach but she was going to look anyway. The further she walked, the quieter the girl got, as if she was yelling. “Hurry up! We don’t have much time?”

“Much time? What do you mean?” Dierdre was dedicated at this point and started nearly running along the beach, fighting through the lack of breathe.

“Wait. Wait no. It’s over here!”

“Di don’t go that far! Come back right now.”

She stopped running and looked around, gasping for breath and sweating. Di? No one had called her Di since her mother died a few years ago. The voice sounded familiar too. Dierdre sat down and thought for a moment. Very quickly she remembered that wasn’t a new experience, it was a memory. As a child at the beach house she would roleplay Gwen the adventurer. She laid down and took a nap, bewildered. When she woke up, she walked back to the other side of the beach hoping to find Gwen again but never did. Her reflection remained her current self and she never discovered why that time way was any different.


Just stumbled across something I wrote 3 years ago

August 23rd 2009

As i lie in bed I think of her. She is so amazing just so perfect for me. Its like we  were meant to be. In this  huge world with the millions of people I found her. My soulmate.  No soulmate is a stupid word.  My, well yeah soulmate. We just came across eachother two months ago. She stumbled into the room and picked my name out of a long list. I still remember the convorsation.

BeachGurl552:Hey sexy 🙂

GeekMaster: sexy eh? you dont even know what i look like

BeachGurl552:well uve got a picture.is that not u?

GeekMaster:oh yeah hahaha i forgot about that.

BeachGurl552:lol i like forgetful men they dont cause trouble in the morning. i can run off and theve got no problems.

GeekMaster: lol fiesty.

Yeah she came on kinda strong. But hey Im a man I’ve got no problems with that. And she even thinks I’m sexy. Hehe she is very sexuly oriented. Perfect for me! But now I lay in my bed and shes not here. I dont know if she will ever be here but I am getting very attached to her.


August 24th 2009

*Beep beep beep*

Another morning. All alone I get up and go to work. Sit at my desk all day. “Marker’s Insurance what can

I help you with today?” Lunch break comes around but no one really socialezs. We all sit in the break

room watching whatever the hell is on tv like robots. I assume everyone in this room has a life. Not

nessicarily a life like mine, but kids, siblings, friends. Or maybe their only contact with the human on

my species is when they fall asleep and snore on my shoulder. Ew slobber.

I Drive home after a few more grueling hours of work and then starts my exciting day! I grab a 6 pack of

beer I turn on my laptop. I take a piss and when I come back to my desk  and opened my VOIP. No mirrors are around but I can feel the smile on my face.  Sitting down, I turn on my webcam and start broadcasting. Sure enough she comes in within a minute.

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The New Me- Week 5

I ran my fingers through the bright red streak in my hair. I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t me. Then I remembered, this was the new me. This was who I choose to be me. Therefore, this was very me.

I left the bathroom and nearly got lost on the way to my room. The yellow on the walls cracked and looked nicotine stained. There were rust colored drops coming from the ceiling that I guess was from the upper apartment’s plumbing. I also noticed there were no curtains on the window, but it was ok because there was a brick wall outside of it.

There was a knock at the door. When I opened the old oak wood that barely passed as a door, a wide lady in a big blue dress, with a stretched peacock tattoo on her forearm stood before me. She spoke with the voice of a 60 year old woman from Brooklyn. “I’m ya new landlord. Ya want something, do it ya self. And no cocaine or alcoholic beverages! No parties. You hardcore kids throw these huge parties and leave the place trashed. This time I’m not toleratin’ it.”

I wanted to agree nicely and convince her I’d be no problem, like the old Victoria would have done. But now I was Seattle Victori..er…Vicky. I was a rough as nails tough-ass bitch. This was my landlord though, so I figured I should be nice. “Yeah, whatever.”

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The Test- Week 4

“Every one hush up! The test is starting.”
I was sitting at a plain old desk amongst a bunch of other plain old desks in plain old school. The teacher was moving through us, setting a paper on each desk. She had a blank face. No emotion at all, like he was in another place.
My face was blank too. I was too busy thinking of problems that wouldn’t appear on the test. My girlfriend, Stacy, kept springing to mind. She was a cheerleader; that I had no problem with. The problem was her late-night practices, and how she would return sweaty and tired every night. I told myself that I was crazy, that she would never do what I was suspecting, but it still came to mind.
“This test will consist of…” the teacher dully went on.
It wasn’t rational of me to think this way. Or was it? I wasn’t sure. Most likely, this was just nerves. Big test, big worries. The teacher finished passing out the test, mouthing something about stopping when she said to. Or maybe she spoke it. Once again, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure about a lot of things lately.
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The Bus- Week 3

“Your music is kind of loud.”
“Yeah well good thing it’s MY music huh?”
“He is right young lady; blasting your music is very disrespectful and not everyone around you would like to hear it.”
“Ugh old people!” I hated this stupid bus ride. I was the only one under I was listening to good music, just not from their generation. The lady next to me gave me a sympathetic look and I turned away toward the window. She smelled like lavender and ocean breeze. It didn’t mesh well with my coconut hand lotion.
I pulled out my journal from my near empty backpack and started writing.
I shouldn’t even be on the bus. My dad is sending me to meet my mom again. I really don’t want to go to her though. The way I see it, if she wants to get to know me, she can drive her ass down here.
“You should give your mom more credit” a voice interrupted.
“Excuse me!” I said defensively while slamming my notebook. “Did I give you permission to read this? No, I didn’t, and I definitely didn’t ask your opinion.”
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