"Hey look! It's the crybaby girl!"

"Little girl! Did you get lost? Do you need a teacher to help escort you back to first grade?" A mean boy sneered at me. His name is Dylan, but I like to call him Meanie. He's very very bad, bad like the big bad wolf.

I look away. Even mommy said that I was supposed to be in first grade, but I was too smart and ended up in second grade. I don't know why THOSE boys are in second grade. Everybody else watched, some chuckling at what they thought were wise words. Where's Ms. Autumn?

The door opened, and everyone silenced. "Okay class. Today we'll be learning about frogs." A few people groaned. Poor Ms. Autumn. She began reading about how tadpoles grow into frogs. She gave us a worksheet about what she read, and I finished it really fast. Then it was time for recess.

Every time when recess starts, I usually run towards the girl's restroom where Dylan and his friends wouldn't bother me. But today was different. While everybody began spilling out the classroom, I noticed a pretty butterfly flitting around outside our classroom. It was yellow with black edges and stripes, and the bottom of the wings kinds looked like it was dripping black ink. It began to flap away, but Dylan was too fast.  

He held it between his fingers, the butterfly flapping it's wings to try and get away. He nearly squashed it.

"Dude! You caught a butterfly?!" One of his friends walked over to inspect the butterfly.

"No shit Sherlock." Dylan replied. I flinched. You're not supposed to be using bad words. They played around with the butterfly, resulting in terrifying it. The butterfly slipped out of Dylan's hands...

Only for one second. "Quit trying to fly away." Dylan said.

"What if you just ripped off the wings?"

"Should I?"

"Stop!" Dylan and his friends turned to stare at me. I bit my lip. I've made a mistake, but I can turn around and run for the restrooms. The butterfly continued to flap between Dylan's fingers. I'm scared.

"What does the little crybaby want now?" Dylan's friend said. 

"Y-You shouldn't do that!" I cried out. 

"What? This?" He held the butterfly's wings between two fingers. Suddenly, the wings of the butterfly fell to the ground, discarded. 

"Is the crybaby going to cry over a tiny little butterfly? Is she-" He stopped when I kicked him in the stomach, hard. The wingless butterfly fell to the ground. I picked it up and ran towards to restroom, tears running down my face. The butterfly tried to crawl away, but I kept it in my hands. I locked myself in a stall and stared at the butterfly.

The poor butterfly was so so scared. I cradled it in my hands, once again. "I don't care if you don't have wings.  You're still beautiful, so I'm going to call you Pretty."

A/N: Ayyyy I'm back from the grave. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this story cuz I haven't been active when it comes to posting content. Someday I shall start a novel (how strange coming from this lazy ass author). Since this is only a series of short stories, you readers won't suffer too much if i fail to update. At least you guys aren't left on a cliff hanger. *cough cough* half mob *dies*