The Butterfly Effect

His feet hurt, the sharp new plastic digging into his heel. How great Mummy thought it was to have brand-new shoes, but he only felt pain. Why did they always have to walk all the way from home to school and back again, every day, just to pick Scott up? His feet began to drag along the blistering pavement. He hated school. It had stolen away Scott. Why did Scott have to leave? Daddy had tried to explain it to him. Scott was a big boy now, with big-boy friends. But what he wanted to know was why was he not allowed to be Scott’s friend anymore? There was never any fun inventing pirate games all day by yourself, and when Scott came home at night, he had no time for imagination, too busy showing off his spelling words and playing soccer with his friends.

Something darted in front of his eyes. Pausing his trudging, he stared down his nose, going cross-eyed as he stared at the blur. Focusing all his energy on one movement, he wiggled his nose gently. Nothing. He wiggled it more. Still nothing. In a sudden burst, he squirmed his whole face frantically. A tickle. Then the thing was gone.

Staring outwards, he saw a dragon of a butterfly with fiery wings and sharp fangs, dripping with venom, darting about. He reached slowly for his long yellow spade and placed it protectively in front of his face. With caution, he stabbed outwards at the fierce target. His cutlass began to take on a life of its own, swishing now this way, now that. He closed in on his foe and was just about to make the final blow when-