A Secret Vow

22 The Bee

I stood in front of this tree for five minutes.

Probably ten.

Maybe I've only been standing here for two minutes and my minds clock has stopped ticking.

Annoyed by the light passing through the gaps of this tree, I slowly started walking around in search for a perfect spot.

Stepping on leaves and rocks. Hearing their satisfying crunches and snaps.

From the corner of my eye I saw a log. Covered in moss and insects. I hopped over a few rocks and squatted. Getting a good view of a fuzzy creature traveling. Making its way across the log to who knows what.

My eyes left the bug and traced the shadow castes beside the log. I looked up and realized the size of the tree I was next to.

Still squatting I shuffled a couple of metered away from the log towards the tree. I then stood up and noticed the mud on my dress.

I can feel mothers fan smacking my shoulder.

Taking advantage of its branches protecting me from the suns rays. I pulled up my blue dress and felt around my waist.

I took out a kitchen knife that was hidden in my undergarment. Feeling the metal glide against my skin, I stare at the barks deep cuts. I fix my dress and properly grip the knife.

I stare at the trunk. Hard.

I jab it and quickly pull it out. And again. And again. And again.

So focused on ever sound the bark made as the tip of my blade enters its wood, and every piece of its body chipping off every time my arm pulled back.

Jab. Jab. Jab.

Cried the tree.

I backed away and dropped the knife in front of me. As if the psychopath that had just possessed my body broke free. Falling forward, I pressed both hands against the tree. Dropping my head and narrowing my eyes. Not feeling one bit satisfied and sadly realizing that hurting the tree would do me nothing.

I take another look at the useless knife and notice the trapped bug underneath it. Struggling to escape its metal.

Eyes still. I watch it squirm.

Closing my eyes, I listen to the wind caress all the trees around me. Making a peaceful sound.

Swoosh.

Swoosh.

Swoosh.

I open my eyes.

I just can't.

I can't unsee it.

I bit my lip.

Last night.

Uncle George and Ms. Simons. I can't forget how fast their bodies were moving. How sweaty and aroused they were.

I disgusted myself just thinking about it.

Why do I keep thinking about it?

WHY?

It's as if a bee flew into my ear and annoyed me with its constant buzzing. Unable to just catch it and crush its body. Setting me free from the madness building inside of me.

In rage I kick the tree.

As the birds flapped their wings, I bounced in pain.

Pouting, I take off my flat shoe and massage my toes.

"Dammit" I sniffed.