Young Writers Society

*please go easy on the critiques*

Title: L'effet papillon - The Butterfly Effect
Author: ~love.dance~
Rating: PG- 13
Warnings: May contain adult themes not suitable for kids under the age of thirteen.
Summery: A girl dancing in a club, the tattoo of a butterfly just below her shoulder, a blurry surrounding and an untold ending, what does it all mean? Travis is left to answer this question alone. It is a story of loss, love, life, lies and lust.

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‘An Unexplained Dream’
Chapter One

Everything in the club was dark and the crowd had fallen silent. They waited in anticipation for the dance number that was about to begin. All of their eyes were looking in the direction of the stage; there was a single spotlight in the middle but no one was there to claim it.
Out of the darkness the sound of a bass guitar could be heard, as it continued to emerge it was greeted by a deafening applause. The music seemed to become more alive, as it grew louder and louder, it seemed to bring life to the stage and the dancers that were now on it.
They began to move their fit bodies to the beat of the music; they were performing their pre-choreographed steps, much to the delight of the audience.
They were all professionally trained and it showed. The moves were sharp and hard and the dancers were perfectly synchronized. Throughout the whole routine, they didn’t seem to put a foot wrong; it was almost too perfect.
Suddenly everything went blurry, the neon lights mixed with the bodies of the dancers and the crowd. It became increasingly difficult to tell one person from another, it was like they had all become joined.
One thing did remain clear though; it was the right arm of one of the dancers that were performing on the stage. Just below her shoulder was a tattoo of a butterfly, with its wings spread, as if it were flying.
Gradually the mist seemed to lift, revealing her chocolate eyes; they seemed to shine like diamonds under the artificial light. The unnamed girl took a step off the stage and began to walk forwards; her figure and other features were slowly becoming clearer.

***

“Travis, get up now or you’re going to be late for school!” came the voice of his mother, Rachel, from downstairs.
His eyes shot open; Travis lay in bed wondering why this always happened. Every time the girl in his dreams began to walk towards him he woke up; it was like something was stopping him from seeing who she really was.
Travis closed his eyes, hoping that she would reappear in his mind but there was nothing. Once again, she was gone.

***

Travis quickly made his way downstairs. He had his bag slung over his shoulder and he was still trying to do up his school tie.
“Look who finally decided to wake up,” Rachel commented.
“Sorry, I was… thinking,” Travis answered falsely.
“I’m sure you were,” she smiled.
“I’d better get going, see you tonight,” Travis gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and, after picking up a slice of toast that had been waiting patiently for him, he made his way to school.
The school that Travis attended was only a twenty minute walk from his house. Travis enjoyed walking to school; it gave him more time to think, especially about the girl from the club. Every morning, on his way to school, he would wonder who she was and what she was doing.
Something that confused Travis even more was the fact that he kept on having the same dream, over and over again and each time it was exactly the same. He had originally thought that it was just a dream but seeing as it kept reoccurring he wasn’t so sure.
It had to mean something, but what could it possibly mean that Travis didn’t already know?

***

Travis spent the whole English class thinking about his dream. It was beginning to drive him crazy. On his worksheet he tried to draw the butterfly that had been on her exposed shoulder, he began to think, maybe the butterfly meant something.
The class finished and Travis had not done any of the work that had been set. He was called over by his teacher Mrs. Sanders; she looked more concerned than angry.
“Travis, can I talk to you now please,” she called over the half empty class room.
Scooping up his books Travis slowly walked over to her.
“Yes Mrs. Sanders?” Travis asked.
“Is there some pacific reason as to why you are not completing the assigned work?”
“Not really,” Travis wasn’t sure about what he could say; he didn’t know how to explain his situation. His mind didn’t have any room for school work; it was too busy trying to decode his dream.
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Sanders asked again, “Is there an issue at home?”
“No,” Travis replied abruptly.
“Well then, if you can’t give me a reason then there is nothing I can do to help you,” Mrs. Sanders didn’t look or sound concerned anymore, “You’ll have to do the worksheet as homework, is that clear?”
“Yes Mrs. Sanders,” Travis knew that if he wanted to pass the school year then he would have to figure out what is dream meant and fast.

... ~more chapters are on the way~ ...

They waited in anticipation for the dance number that was about to begin.

Say the most with the fewest words. "They waited in anticipation for the next dance number."

The music seemed to become more alive, as it grew louder and louder, it seemed to bring life to the stage and the dancers that were now on it.

Get rid of the second comma.

They began to move their fit bodies to the beat of the music; they were performing their pre-choreographed steps, much to the delight of the audience.

Aside from looking wrongly spelled, the "pre" in prechoreographed is unnecessary. Implicit in choreography is the idea of planning it out ahead.

It had to mean something, but what could it possibly mean that Travis didn’t already know?

Cut it down to "It had to mean something, but what?" Everything else is just excessive.

On his worksheet he tried to draw the butterfly that had been on her exposed shoulder, he began to think, maybe the butterfly meant something.

Replace the second comma with a "that."

Last sentence, "what his dream," not "what is dream."

Otherwise, it's an okay beginning. It's interesting, enough to make me want to read more, but it's not a wowzer of a start. Mysterious dreams are pretty common to stories, and your dream isn't spectacular. Not that that's a bad thing. It's a puzzle, something for the protag to work on, which is always nice. The pace is well set, the breaks well placed, and the story, overall, is well written. Keep working on it.

Thank you for your advice about my story.
Once again, please go easy on the critiques.
I hope you enjoy the chapter.
~love.dance~

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The Secret Journal
Chapter Two

Travis walked home very slowly that night; he was trying to delay getting home for as long as possible. He knew that Mrs. Sanders would have phoned his mother and talked to her about Travis not doing any of the work and how his grades had been decreasing over the past couple of weeks. He knew that as soon as he got home he would be bombarded with questions about what was wrong with him.
Travis could see his house as he walked down the concrete pathway. It was the third house on the left. His heart sank as he saw the deep red car parked in the driveway, this meant that his mother was home from work and she would be waiting for him.
The door creaked slightly; other than that everything else was silent inside the house. Travis walked slowly and cautiously towards the kitchen. As he looked around the doorway he saw his mother sitting at the table with her arms crossed.
“Travis, we need to talk,” she demanded.
Travis sat down opposite his mother and looked at her directly in the eyes, he didn’t say anything.
“I got a call today,” Rachel started, “From Mrs. Sanders.”
“Yeah, I know,” Travis admitted.
“Can you tell me what it was about?” Rachel questioned.
“I haven’t,” Travis paused, “I haven’t been doing my school work.”
“And why is that?” It was like his mother had an endless list of questions that she could ask him.
“I’m not sure,” Travis confessed after a lengthy pause.
“Travis,” Rachel reached across the table and placed her hand over his, “You know you can tell me anything.”
“Yeah I know that mum,” Travis assured. He stood from the table, “I think I’ll go and have a lie down.”

***

Travis sat down at his desk and grabbed a journal that was hiding under some loose sheets of paper. The journal was full of articles, pictures and all of his thoughts about his confusing dream, every time he had the dream he would write it out again, just in case something had changed.
He had also drawn sketches of some of the events that took place in his dream, like the club, the lights, the crowds and the bare stage. Travis had also tried to draw the butterfly that he had seen, time and time again, just below the girls’ shoulder.
Travis tried, for what seemed like hours, to piece together everything that he had gathered the articles about club dancers, his drawings and the many writings of his dream. Even though nothing had changed physically about his dream, when he wrote it down, he tried to highlight something different about it or something more that he noticed.

***

The hazy figure took a graceful step off the stage and began to walk forwards. Slowly the mist over her diamond like eyes began to clear; the other features on her face also began to appear clearer than they ever had before.
Her slightly rosy cheeks, her perfectly formed lips and her gentle cheek bones were the main features that became highlighted.
She lent forwards.

***

Travis’ eyelids fluttered; he took a deep breath in as he woke, realising that he had been resting his head on his journal. He ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes, trying to improve his blurry vision.
As soon as he got his sight back he instantly set to work drawing what he had seen in his dream. Travis wasn’t surprised that he had woken up when he did, but one thing that did confuse him was the fact that he had actually seen a clear picture of her face.
In all of his previous dreams her face had been obstructed and blurry but this time it was different.
Travis turned his head and looked at the digital clock that was sitting by his bedside; in red digits it read, 2.45 am. By the time that Travis had written down his dream once again and then hidden the journal it was 3.00 am.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling; the image of her face just kept running over and over in his mind. She was so beautiful; it was almost like she was too beautiful. To Travis, it was what he would have imagined an angel to look.
Closing his eyes Travis hoped to see her face again but this time his mind was blank. He woke up the next morning without seeing her in his dreams. Something was wrong and he needed to find out what.