The Bad and the Good
Emily, Age 11, Dartmouth, NS

Whitley stared up at the sky, eyes fixed on the stars. She felt quite serene at this particular moment, lying in the sweet-smelling grass, surrounded by trees. The small pond in front of her was beautiful as it reflected everything around her like one large mirror.

She listened as the trees swayed in unison in the summer breeze and the crickets chirped as one. The scene was truly mesmerizing. Whitley didn't want to have to leave.

Just as she began to count the many stars, clouds formed in the sky and her view became blocked by thick fog. The tree branches moved faster, though they continued to sway together, but this was not a swaying Whitley liked. It was as though they were dancing to some sort of twisted symphony.

The crickets' chirping stopped and the sound of croaking frogs replaced it. The pond turned into a swamp, deep brown and smelling like an oil refinery. It was no longer a landscape of splendor, but of unpleasantness.

She closed her eyes and silently hoped it was a dream. When she opened them again, she let out the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. The stars shone bright again, the pond glistening, the trees swaying to the crickets' sweet song. Whitley listened to them and thought, "Sometimes you get so caught up in what feels good, you don't realize that the bad things haven't completely disappeared. You're just lucky enough not to be a part of those bad things."


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