The Beginning of The End

Bizarre bees

Sophia

The small things in life make the biggest difference. Like a change in attitude can affect who you are friends with, how other people see you, how you spend your time and your outlook on life. I like to live my life with nothing to regret. I try not to change too much as I have grown to accept the way I live and I fear that a large change will lead me to regret my decision. But even the small changes that happen around you can affect your life as it did mine. I have found that by staying the same for years I have changed more than anyone else. And in my quest to control my life I didn't notice things slowly falling apart.

***

Scarlett left. Alex went to follow but she sent him back. I was forcing my lunch down trying not to watch as Scarlett broke our unwritten promise to stay out of parts of each other's lives that we tried to keep private. I understood her reasons but it felt like a violation of the only rule we had. I ignored it as I ignored everything else and focused my attention within. It was nice that Alex was trying to include me in conversation after the multiple prompts from Scarlett but I was happy being in my own mind. I didn't have to constantly worry about every word I said. I was free to think what I wanted and no one could judge me.

I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to where Scarlett stood apparently talking to Maisie. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she just really needed to speak to Maisie who spent all her time on the other side of the field and rarely ventured across in our direction. I doubted it. I had this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I so desperately wanted to convince myself that she wouldn't go against her rules but she had said she was going to spy on them but not in those words. I couldn't convince myself. I knew we were all experts in spy techniques. Too much free time spent sneaking around. And Scarlett was the best of us. She was so good I was surprised she hadn't had expert training. She could have been trained by MI5 for all I knew.

I barely registered Alex and John speaking around me. I was too absorbed in my own thoughts. I realised they were trying to remain ignorant of what Scarlett was doing. Their gaze was focused in a different direction and although I could barely hear their conversation I knew it wasn't about Scarlett, Hattie or Mike in any way. And that wasn't just because John hated Mike and everything he did.

It seemed like hours had passed before Scarlett returned. She did not run. She moved at a standard pace as if she was just out for a stroll in the summer sun. Her pace was not slow exactly but my mind exaggerated the time it took for her to reach us. I feared something had gone terribly wrong but I could tell nothing from the blank smile on her face.

We all looked up as she returned.

I tried to question her with my gaze but she would not meet my eyes. The chances were that she would not understand the message I was trying to convey. I knew I couldn't understand any of the messages she sent. It was not the same as between her and Alex.

They shared a bond that allowed anything to pass between them clearly. They understood each other perfectly. It was as if they were physically tied together they could not be separated.

"Well?" John was as confused as I was.

"Not good news," Alex answered he had understood everything from one look into Scarlett's eyes.

"How?" The confused look on John's face remained.

"It's complicated." I wish Alex would stop answering. I wanted answers direct from the source not echoed by another person.

I bit back my concerns.

"Complicated in what way?" John was as agitated as I was.

"Scarlett needs time to explain."

"Just tell us and stop wasting time or Hattie will be back and will know we were watching her?"

Scarlett stared over her shoulder. The seconds built up. Time was running out.

"Are you going to tell us or not?" John felt the time constraints as much as everyone else.

Scarlett tilted her head in the direction of Hattie. My eyes spun and focused on the girl walking towards us. Hattie was too close for comfort and we tried hard not to look suspicious. She was not accompanied by Mike. Maybe Scarlett had got it wrong.

"I am not looking forward to art later." Scarlett was steering the conversation to safe ground.

"I don't think I can survive 2 hours with Miss Evans again today. I think I'm going to die." That was a bit overdramatic for Alex. I hope it hadn't raised Hattie's suspicion.

"I couldn't think of a worse fate." At least John was convincing.

I remained quiet fearing that if I said anything it would raise Hattie's suspicions.

"Hey, Hattie. How'd it go?" Scarlett's smiled and there was a twinkle in her eyes some secret joke she was sharing only with Hattie.

"Fine. Nothing special." Hattie didn't appear to have any suspicion. She probably didn't notice Scarlett's trip to the other side of the field. Too distracted by a boy - typical!

John had found that frown again. "What kind of answer is that?"

"I told you it went fine."

"I'm taking a leaf out of your book - give us all the details now, don't skip anything and I want the truth. I'll be able to tell if you're lying." Wow, Scarlett was taking this really seriously.

A quiet buzzing drew my attention upwards. I couldn't see anything. It must be my imagination. Wait, what? There was so much that was wrong with that sentence.

I don't have an imagination. I lost it when I was young and I filled my head with science and technology. The left side of my brain overpowers the right. I read a lot of books. It was the only way I could find to work the right side of my brain. I was technically perfect at violin but I couldn't compose because that requires creativity. A six-year-old could write a better story than me - I was used to only remembering the facts. My art was rubbish- technical drawing was fine but whenever we got a project that required an injection of creativity I failed miserably. I couldn't act - even though I got the lines, no matter how many or how complicated they were, word perfect but I struggled to convey the emotions I was supposed to be clearly showing and all in all my performance wasn't very convincing.

There was that buzzing sound again. I looked around confused. I had already decided it couldn't be my non-existent imagination. I was sure the noise was coming from the branches of the old oak tree.

Scarlett was wondering what I was looking at. She glanced through the branches above us. She looked at me confused. "Soph what are you staring at?"

She had interrupted Hattie. "I thought I could hear buzzing." I kept my voice low feeling bad for interrupting Hattie's heartfelt confession which I had been too distracted to listen to.

Everyone was quiet. No sound filled my ears.

"I can't hear anything. You might just have been imagining it." Hattie was the first to get bored of the stretched period of silence.

"Yeah maybe..." But as I said it I could hear the buzzing again. This time it sounded closer more defined but still no louder.

Once again I glanced up towards the dappled sunlight shining through the twisted tree branches. I strained my eyes and my ears. The buzzing continued but I could still see nothing. I was struck with that weird anxiety you get when watching horror movies. The one where you knew something was going to jump out at you but you still sent popcorn flying when it did. But time stretched on and nothing happened.

I was convinced that I had been wrong or at least that was what I was still trying to convince myself of when I heard Hattie. "What was that?"

"Where? I didn't see anything." John looked around confused.

"In the tree, it looked like a..."

"BEEEEE" The scream escaped my mouth before I could keep it clamped shut. My phobia counterbalanced the way I lived my life and all my principles.

I have always hated bees. I researched bee stings a million times. Some people who were allergic to them died from the experience. I had no idea whether I was allergic to them or not but I wasn't going to wait around and find out.

The bee looked like any other bee you would see but its body was slimmer more like a wasp but I was certain it was a bee. It moved lightning fast which was probably the reason I hadn't seen it earlier. Its buzz was quiet; nearly non-existent and hardly the warning sign I was used to.

I scrambled to my feet gathering the remainder of my lunch- empty Clingfilm my sandwiches had been wrapped in, an apple core, a plum stone a pot that once contained grapes, an empty crisp packet that had been crumpled into a ball and got ready to flee.

Everyone else was on their feet in a second. Scarlett was trying to calm me down. She knew how flustered I got. "It's just a bee; it won't hurt you if you don't hurt it."

There was a sound behind my friends. It sounded like a balloon being blown up. I saw a flash of black and yellow over the shoulders of my friends. How many were there I was sure that was too much colour for just one bee.

My eyes were swimming with black and yellow. The bee rose above my friend's heads and I couldn't believe my eyes. It was growing. Noticeably growing. I mean stretching before my eyes. Once again the scream escaped.

"Calm down" There was no way Scarlett was going to reassure me now. A normal bee maybe, that mammoth bee no way.

Scarlett turned around her mouth fell open when she realised what was happening. Hattie followed and her yell was loud enough to steer the whole field into action. "RUN!"

We sprinted for the open door of the school. Everyone was leaving the field now at the fastest pace they could manage. Other girls were screaming at the top of their voices. The teachers came outside roused by the unexpected noise. It wasn't long until the bell was due to ring signalling the end of lunch but they were shocked to see masses of students heading their way at a faster sprint than they had ever seen us achieve during our athletic lessons in PE class.

The bee was following and it was very fast. It had stopped growing which was a good thing but not that useful as it had already reached the span of 5 people's hands lined up in a row. The proportions of the bee hadn't changed. It looked like someone had just blown it up like a deadly birthday balloon.

The bell sounded. Its loud pitched screech usually made me cover my ears but I feared falling behind. I didn't want anything to stop me from reaching the safety of the school. I can't believe that I actually thought that but I would rather be in an awful art lesson with Miss Evans than risk being stung to death by a giant bee. The odds of survival didn't look good either way but I felt that in Miss Evan's art class I stood a better chance of making it through two hours alive but probably not unscratched.