BerkVille: Act 2

ant farM!: an epilogue by Masquerade

What is an ant farm? It's basically a nest containing a colony of ants that live and work together for the benefit of their kind studied through the flat transparent box they're placed in. Ants are intelligent, hardworking creatures with complex societies and social hierarchies. They're much more wise and put together than us humans yet so much weaker and smaller. The more I study them in my collection of ant farms, the more I realize my strategic and formulated mindset is way too complex for the human mind. I'm more like them in every way.

However, their colonies don't just come to be overnight. It takes time for the queen to lay and care for her eggs. But when they do hatch, the ants are assigned certain jobs without any college degrees. They put their minds and bodies together to carry things ten times their weights and luckily can't hear the grunting and wheezing of their tired peers because they have no ears. Just a bit of comedy, ants don't have lungs either silly!

But due to escapees and accidents that have happened several times in my collection I can understand why ants are seen as pests. And boy do I know much about a pesky creature that won't stop sticking its nose where it's unwanted. Pesticide works, but sometimes you must go for the kill.

Rather unsuspected, Gibbs mustered his way out of the throbbing pain of his injury and began fluttering open his eyes like a butterfly awakening from its cocoon. Doctors were circulating him and so was his father. They were checking his vitals, making sure he was okay but Gibbs seemed more eager to get out of his bedrest.

He had one thing on his mind and one thing only: reveal me to Mandy.

He fought his way out of the room saying he would be leaving to go to the restroom after much opposition from his father and doctor who were a bit worried about him walking anywhere alone especially because he was still limping. He played their worries no mind and slipped out the door saying this would be a great training start for his physical therapy that would be starting in the coming weeks.

He had managed to nab his father's phone and once he locked himself in a stall in the bathroom, he tried placing his call but unfortunately the bad service wouldn't let it go through. That and the grunting and wheezing of the constipated older gentleman in the stall next to him set him off. Not giving up hope, eyes still on the prize, he waddled around the hospital from floor to floor till he managed to find the location of a phone booth built into the wall on the giant map of the hospital that occupied the children's wing of the hospital.

His wound was beginning to give off intense pain and he gripped it causing it to reopen a bit oozing blood as he stumbled against the wall to the elevator. A mother came over trying to assist but he pushed past her. Unfortunately the elevator was out of service and he couldn't use the one next to it because it was for disabled individuals in wheelchairs and was already being occupied, filled to capacity.

The last option was the stairs. He began down them stopping every couple of seconds to cringe and howl at the pain but pushed through. At that point, he could feel the chilling blood trickling down his leg and feeling his breaths getting slower. But that wasn't going to stop him.

He had made it halfway there till he felt the impact of a heavy kick by my booted feet thrust into his back and send him hurdling down the stairs tossing around every organ in his body as he hit the wound on every direct piece of concrete. His body laid there unable to move, a pool of blood beginning to form from his stab wound mixing in with the new wound from the impact of bashing his forehead received from the metal railings. The only thing that moved was his twitching fingers.

His eyes stayed open as he watched me pace down the stairs menacingly and rather slowly towards him. I had been monitoring him keenly for weeks just incase the nuisance did wake up and if was smart of me to. Unable to scream, tears rolled down his face leaving their tire marks. But I had to make sure he would shut up for a long time or for good and that push wasn't ineffective. So I took his head into my gloved hand and smashed it on the ground once more with full force.

And with that I went down into the basement of the hospital and disappeared.

A kid carrying a giant rainbow lollipop eventually found him laying there and let everyone know through his terrified screams. His father who had been looking for him for over an hour was called to the scene where they had to bring him back into surgery and asked for many prayers. Disheartened, eyes festered with tears and a paining chest his father waited outside crying. He couldn't keep seeing his son getting hurt. Just when he thought he was about to grill him for what actually happened carnival day.

The hospital said that he must've stumbled to the stairs and fell down due to his wound. It wasn't uncommon. But they were only trying not to get sued.

Once he made it out of surgery and a few days flew by, Gibbs had fallen into a coma and professionals weren't sure when or if he would even wake up. There's even a strong possibility of him going brain dead. And that was music to my ears. I visited him often in the darkness of nightfall stroking his cheek, whispering and bloating about my win. And even though he was out cold I could still feel his shivers every time I creaked into the room. Even his heart rate monitor skyrocketed whenever my presence was near sending nurses rushing in.

    See, I can be a pesky little ant too. If you try to fuck up my plans I won't stop till you bleed. And I just keep coming back no matter how many methods or remedies you throw at me. I'm always one step ahead, lurking in the deep shadows, watching.
I'm like the warden in Minecraft, you enter the darkness of my lair, but must watch your step and how much noise you make because I will come out of the ground.

I sat across the street inside an abandoned house eating a bowl of cherries peering through the smoky cracked windows at Mandy's birthday party. Propped up on the porch in a perfect spot catching all the colors and shadows of the scene was my video camera. I loved capturing moments that made me happy. All of my favorite toys arriving to Mandy's party made my heart race with excitement. And Toy's new hair made me giddy from excitement as I had a long night ahead of me to make a tiny replica for my doll of her.

Balloons were stapled in huge bundles all around the yard in purple, blue and pink. Plastic chairs sat at widespread tables under the bottoms of the guests. Used napkins, crushed up styrofoam cups, plastic plates painted with thick blotches of cake icing and fondant, finger foods such as tuna melt sandwiches' crumbs, trays and Lilies' petals were tossed across the tables. The speakers were huge powerhouse boxes that sat at the four corners of the plot blasting Mandy's favorite tunes. And lastly, the confetti cannons were packed and ready for one to squeeze the trigger.

Everything was as bright as the sky until Mandy got the phone call. The music was turned down as she answered and she fell to her knees as she listened. Gibbs's father had called to let her know about his tiny incident.

And at that moment I felt the emotions change. I felt the knot in her stomach tighten. I felt the motion of the sky darkening. And I couldn't help but let out an evil winded cackle. The echo escaped out the chimney and fluttered over to the scene causing Carson to try to track it but he couldn't.