Inspired to friends, bad days, and Creative Writing.


Destruction by Butterfly

On my fifteenth birthday, the world ended.

Maybe I should clarify. It wasn't really my fault that the world ended. The date of the apocalypse just happened to occur on the day I turned fifteen. And it wasn't like "Happy Birthday - BOOM!" and the world ended. Maybe I should just tell the story.

That morning, I woke up... everything was normal and my "surprise" party was happening later that day, just as planned. I got dressed and brushed my teeth. Just like always.

I think the trouble all started during breakfast. Mom had made one of her infamous creations. Today it was leftover meatloaf baked into an omelette and served over refried rice. Can anyone spell "heart attack"?

I was in the process of refusing it, as I always did, when the whole pan exploded on me. How does an omelette explode? I was pretty much in shock, my favorite shirt ruined and any appetite I had had before had vanished... just like the third helpings on my brother's plate.

After I had changed, I surreptitiously got Dad to take me to Starbucks for a drink. He could get his breakfast and I my caffeine hit for the morning.

There, I was assaulted by no less than three coffees, two bagels, five plates, a 250-count stack of napkins, and a partridge in a pear tree. It was horrible. Naturally, we left almost as soon as we'd walked in.

From there, my day only got worse. My brother dropped a basketball on my head three times, Sara (my bf) knocked over a rack of clothes while we were at the mall and I got blamed for it, and the jacket that I saw two days ago was completely sold out. How can three hundred jackets be sold in two days so that I, convieniently, couldn't buy one?

After lunch (cheese, pickle, mayo, tomato, and meatloaf sandwiches), I was slapped three times (my brother, Johanna, and George), beaten fourteen to negative two in field hockey (my favorite sport and the one I'm best at), my soap was unexpectedly cancelled (after four high-rated seasons!), and I fell on some ice. My birthday is in July. How is there ice in July?!

So... after I freaked out quite a bit, I ate the meatloaf-and-sour-cream-potatoes dinner my mother had made. I despise meatloaf. And how is piling sour cream on a perfectly healthy baked potato good? It's not. Mom knows I despise that... why on birthday must she do this?

Before the party started, I had to change my outfit twice more (once from the meatloaf and twice from pepper spray. One of the pepper spray incidents happened right after the meatloaf. I didn't have time to change) and my CD collection was ruined by a freak microwave explosion accident in my room. I don't have a microwave in my room.

The party finally rolled around, but I was ready to cry. And cry I did when everyone jumped out, yelling "Surprise!" and knocking everything off the shelves and onto the cake. Which promptly splattered over me and the gifts. No one else was so much as spotted with icing, while I was covered with it.

Sinking to the floor, I just started to cry. Not really a wailing cry, but more of a sobbing sort of cry. All the stress of the day came out in the form of tears as the weight of everything came crashing down like the icing dripping onto the floor.

Amidst the people clambering over each other to comfort me, I cracked. I completely and totally cracked. Everything that had happened had come out in the tears, but the tears were the last straw.

I screamed so loudly that the butterfly effect came into play. My screams echoed around the world, setting off a devastating chain of cataclysmic events. Avalanches in the North and South poles caused the water level to rise, sending tsunamis to hit Japan and the east coast of Asia. With the impending thought of no more exports from China, the American stock market crashed. Without the economic superpower of the world functioning, the rest of the world panicked. The South American rainforest was completely destroyed, speeding up the process of global warming so much that the sun fried the world only ten and a half minutes after my first scream.

By some stroke of luck, I was beamed up by an alien ship eight minutes before the end of the world. The aliens took me back to their home planet, which was far enough away from Earth to not be effected at all.

"How did you do it?" they asked eagerly.

"Do what?" I was seriously confused.

"Why, destroy the Earth, of course!" they exclaimed.

"Uh... well, it started with-" I broke off, turning away to wipe the tears from my eyes. "Why do you even want to know?"

"Well... it's going to go on your commemorative statue."

"My... statue?"

That was how I got on the alien planet of Juxtapse. They speak a language very similar to English there, so I was able to understand them without too much help from the translator.

I spent the next year learning about their culture and lifestyle. By the time my sixteenth birthday rolled around, I was able to exist flawlessly among the Juxtapsians.

The day dawned on my sixteenth birthday, the disaster of my fifteenth nearly forgotten. My adoptive family gathered around the table for a breakfast of meatloaf omelettes over refried rice.

Déjà vu, anyone?