Born of very attractive parents no one knew why this one was "different." Her large eyes accentuated her round face and smoothed the lines that flowed down her cheekbones to her bold nose. Her build at six years was different from that of her older, slimmer brother. Her belly slightly protruded from over her dark jeans and her small feet were clad in her pair of brown and forest green hiking boots that accomodated her curious nature and her tendency to wander.
This particular day her attention was focused on a yard of honey bees collecting pollen in her pasture of clovers. Just curious at first she watched from a distance carefully studying their behavior, watching, learning. Her dark hair carelessly fell into her eyes and she moved it, not distracted, not breaking her concentration. A time to act.
The bees flew around moving from blossom to blossom carrying out the tasks they've been appointed unaware of the danger watching their microcosmic world. Their wings moving rapidly moved to the beat of her heart and the humming of their collective sound fueled her murderous passion to exterminate the workers. She knew the consequences of killing them off one by one but a bee sting was not going to disuade her from her mission. Taking a small plastic cup that once contained the gelatinous filth they feed to children called pudding she moved in silently. She slowly manuvered her hands and the cup over a bee rubbing its legs on a blossom. How small, she thought, she studied the wings, so still. The bee struggled at first realizing the danger drawing strength from its determination to get back to the hive. She sat for a little while watching the honey bee die, its velvet yellow and black body twitching at first after it fell from its last frantic attempt to fly through the transparent wall of the pudding cup. No sorrow, no remorse for the dying creature she silently sat among the other bees contemplating a quicker way to massacre them all. Several pudding cups later she found a method that would all at once (collect her prey and kill them off faster). Digging in the same recycling bin where she found the pudding cups she found an empty two liter bottle. It's green color brought back memories of a movie her parents recently showed her. Oz, she thought, I'd finish him off in this Emerald City soon enough if he were here, but he wasn't and her focus returned to the bees. She slowly walked over to the hose in her yard. Baking in the hot sun the water that came out burned her small fingers as she turned on the water; filling the bottle. She ignored the pain and turned the water off and diligently crossed the yard and picked up the pudding cup containing the carcass of the first casualty. She deposited the body and capped the bottle. A quick shake and the bee's wings separated from it's body. As the water settled she set it down and started placing the remaining pudding cups over the other honey bees collecting. They too tried like the first to escape but the girl worked (quick) and before they knew it they were swimming in the hot water containing the bodies of their fellow comrades.
Twenty minutes and fifty bees later she had substantially thinned the buzzing cloud of bees. Satisfied with her work she lay in the clovers holding the green bottle over her head blocking the sun. The light shone through casting small prisms onto her round face and the grass around her. She looked at the small bees now in her bottle and she thought about what she had just done. Her conscience did nothing for her. She had no feelings. After a few thoughts about the sun and the clouds she looked to the sky as it turned an orange from the sunset. The green bottle turned an ugly brown and she stood up and unscrewed the cap. She began to pour out its contents and she watched as the flood of water pushed out the bodies. Her eyes a dark brown like that of strong day old coffee hardened and she dumped the rest of the residue out. Looking down at the broken legs, wings, and bodies she thought hard, her feelings of apathy and indifference turned to hate and she stepped on the pile of dimembered bees. As she lifted her foot she looked at the bottom of her shoe, disgusted she spit on the smeared yellow green mess and walked away. It was time for dinner.














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