Sunday, June 22, 2008

Bee-bees and cockle bugs

She delighted in embarrassing him. Not a day went by when she didn't find some way to do so.



Playing jacks last month, she'd heard him misstate that his pants were damp because his mother had taken them out of the dishwasher that morning and she began telling everyone that his clothes were washed in a dishwasher.



She gloated at the laughter she had created.



There was something about viewing his humiliation that almost made his presence worth it.



Almost.



But now he was seated in front of her.



"What kind of a fool goes out in public with bee-bees on his neck?" she said loud enough for everyone to hear while she pointed them out.



As everyone burst out laughing, he attempted to ignore her.



She acknowledged the laughter and, as the teacher instructed everyone to continue reading, she looked down at the open book on the desk before her.



She really hated him.



It wasn't anything he'd ever done or said, she just hated him.



Just the sight of him was enough to set her off.



She looked up to see all her classmates reading. Bored, she glanced at his neck.



The bee-bees looked bigger.



She rubbed her eyes and looked again.



They were bigger. They were now little puffs.



Nappy.



Nasty.



"Cockle bugs," she whispered loudly causing the class to erupt in laughter again while the teacher called for order.



She stared at her book and pretended she was innocent.



But all the while she was thinking about what she could say in the lunch line?



It had to be really funny. She wanted the whole cafeteria laughing.



Good wasn't good enough, this had to be roll on the floor funny.



What could she say?



She brushed a hair away from her face as she started at her book. It had to be . . . She brushed the hair away again.



It wasn't her hair!



Looking up, she saw the bee-bee on his neck expanding and expanding. It was the size of a bale of cotton and still growing.



Alarmed, she looked at her classmates but they were all staring down at their books.



As the bee-bee grew and grew, there was little room for her at her desk.



Standing, she opened her mouth intending to say something funny; however, no sooner did she open her mouth then the expanding bee-bee shot into her mouth.



She tried to jerk it out but it was still expanding and forcing its way deeper into her mouth, down her throat.



She was gagging and waving her hands to get her classmates attention.



They all remained glued to their books.



She was choking and the hairs were now coming out of her nostrils and running down her face, winding around her neck.



She couldn't breathe and it was choking her.



No one noticed. She stamped her feet since she couldn't scream, trying to get someone's attention.



He turned around.



He turned around and smirked at her as she gagged.



She fell to the floor.



Her mother was crying. The police were present. She'd found her daughter that morning, going in to wake her for school, smothered by her own pillow.
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.
 
Poll1 { display:none; }