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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1379115-Ella
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Young Adult · #1379115
a young girl being a young girl
And as Ella Stormed through the hallway, tangled hair whirling behind her and fury engulfing her mind as she relived what she had just heard over and over again in her mind, she notice something flickering out of the corner of her eye on the floor. She had noticed it a few days earlier but had just put it down to nature’s fickle way of dealing with things, but to her delight, there it remained. A small butterfly sat just on the edge of the skirting board a few inches down from the doorway to the kitchen. Ella crouched down and eventually sat, crossed-legged in front of the creature. For a moment she just stared, admiring its detailed patterns and intricate artwork that Mother Nature had so kindly blessed her with. After a few seconds of silence had passed she moved her head a little closer to inspect the serenity of the dear thing. The way its wings moved ever so slightly when she exhaled too heavily, the grace it showed simply by not moving at all, just sitting there. Ella wanted to be a butterfly. She wanted to be that butterfly. The butterfly that just sat there on the skirting board like it had done for the past few days without a thing to worry about. She wanted to be able to sit in the same position for days on end just watching the dogs and the people and lives whiz past her and just not have to care and worry. Ella pictured her self with a tiny pair of wings. They were gold with lace detail swirling around the tips, they were light and delicate and able to take her far, far away. She imagined her self fluttering down to where the butterfly was perched and trying to take up her place where she would sit. But her imagination couldn’t let her get that far. Whenever she pictured herself placing her tiny little feet on the wood, they would just slip away from under her and she would just end up where she was before on the floor. No matter how hard she tried her mind just wouldn’t let her sit there like she wanted to. She wanted to be able to watch the world fly by and remain oblivious and calm to the entire event.
    Ella rose to her feet, still staring at the butterfly. The anger that previously had pumped round her blood stream had subsided and she felt like she was able to breath again, with out being watched or criticised. She didn’t want to remain around the butterfly for too long, it made her jealous. She began to move from where she was standing, aiming to get round the corner to the kitchen, her eyes that were still fixated on the butterfly were the last to get round to where they continued to follow her feet, watching one go in front of the other. Matching up her feet with the tiles of the floor, placing her toes where they turned slightly to fit into another one. Ella had always enjoyed concentrating on small things. When she was little and her mother would shout at her she would always stare really hard at her earrings and when she shook her head they would dangle more violently side to side. It had always been a thing that had calmed her down. The butterfly remained in her mind but not her current thoughts. It became the equivalent of an early birthday party; when you can remember that there were balloons and cake but the colour of the balloons is gone and you cant remember if you even ate the cake.
      Ella was aware that the situation that had just taken place a few minutes before was not the end. She knew that despite her longing for that to be the end of the matter all together, it most certainly wasn’t. But as far as she was currently concerned she had to carry on as if the day had continued as she had intended. Breakfast. Bus. Break time. Ballet. And she simply erased the thoughts and took a packet of crisps from the cupboard.
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