Bees

A short story about a little girls with questionable sanity problem. Buzz Buzz...

Bees

Pauline owned a flower shop, growing them was a passion of hers since she was six and her grandmother would plant various flowers in her backyard. They were pretty and smelled nice, that’s what she loved. Pauline’s daughter, Silvia, had the same interest and had already planned to work in her mother’s shop when she was of age, for Silvia was only ten.

Silvia would sit behind the counter that had the already made up flowers that needed to be sent to their customers. She had a little purple desk next to her so that she could draw her flower pictures. Her mother would continually spray the flowers and never really took some time off. She would hum though, and her daughter would follow along with the oldies tunes her mother did.

 

The day was gray and quiet, it usually was sunny and yellow, so the shop was very scarce with people even walking on the sidewalks outside. It was tranquil inside the flower shop, Pauline didn’t like that too much. Silvia stared at her arms, regular caramel tint, but something was very wrong here.

Buzz, buzz.

She scratched her left wrist. Up and down, left and right, she continued to scratch until her wrist was red and raw. It was good that she had long sleeves. She pulled them down and watched her mother who was spraying the tulips.

“Mummy,”

“Yes, Silvia?”

“Are there bees in the flowers?”

“Well, I’ve never seen any bees but I suppose there could be one or two, but don’t worry, sweetie, they won’t get you.”

 

The conversation ended.

 

The two went home unsatisfied with their day. Their home was placed in a quiet neighborhood that had no problems. It was quite lovely. Pauline unlocked the door and Silvia stepped inside to where the living room is. She went to her room, flowers needed to be tended to. Pauline went to the kitchen to start making a meal for her and her child.

 

Silvia was followed by her cat, Ivy, who silently crept onto her bed cleaning herself. Silvia grabbed the spray bottle and sprinkled her lilies with water.

Buzz, buzz.

She sat down next to Ivy and rubbed her neck, there was a medium-sized bump. It seemed interminable how long she continued to rub that bump, then it moved a little to the right. It startled her so much Silvia jumped making Ivy meow. Silvia picked at the moving bump with the buzzing sound getting louder and louder.

Multiple buzzes came. Submerging from her skin, more bumps came. Silvia panicked. Ivy pounced off the bed and made her way out the door. Get the knife and get the bees out, her inner thoughts told her.

“Then everything will be over.” Silvia wiped her hands on her bumpy legs and went to the kitchen attempting to ignore the crazy buzzing.

 

Pauline was in the living room waiting for the rice to boil. She was watching the television that had on the news. She didn’t even hear Silvia opened the drawers trying to find the knives; right there in front of her.

Buzz, buzz.

Silvia ran back to her room with the knife, nice and sharp, nice and silver. She began to scratch her knees, ignorant bees, they don’t know what’s coming to them.

 

One cut.

Two cuts.

More cuts.

 

The buzzing lessened and lessened even more. Silvia started to calm down. The last cut was the last bee, its life was ended, Silvia’s began.

Something was wrong.

 

She slowly but surely got into bed, the red dripping whenever she moved. She placed the covers on top of herself and slept.

“Silvia, dinnertime!” said Pauline. No reply. She went to her daughter’s bedroom. Poor thing was sleeping like the dead, but she had to eat something then go back to her slumber.

 

Pauline shook her shoulder. Nothing. She noticed the red. Something. She pulled back the covers.

 

Butchered to death, that little girl was. All she was doing was getting the bees out, but now all there is of her is open wounds that are bloody and gross.

Quietly and contently Silvia slept into an eternal slumber. Isn’t that something?

Author's Note

Please, I'd like some suggestions to make my stories better.