Queen of the Roaches

1: Boots {Gregor the Overlander}

Yay my first one shot is NONromantic, that's why there isn't a shipname in the title. It centers on boots from the series Gregor The Overlander by Suzanne Collins (I know you won't believe it but I think this series was better than her other, the Hunger Games). Word count : 2915 words.

...

The cockroaches were chanting again. Boots could never get them to stop. They would stand up on their hind legs and sway like the corn in the fields around the house, and constantly click, and click, and click. Ever since she could remember, they had been following her around like a procession follows a princess. And sometimes, she understood what they said, but she never knew why.

...

She swept the stack of books in her bag, first carefully making sure that no eight-legged friends were inside, about to be crushed. Swinging the pack over her shoulders, she bent down to tie her sneakers and straightened the straps of her overalls. She started to make her way downstairs, almost tripping on one of the dirtied laces and a roach that quickly skittered out of her way.

"Boots, your running late!" Her mom called from the kitchen.

"Almost ready!" She rushed into the room where her mother stood in a floral apron, her darker curls swept out of her face in an updo.

Her older sister Elizabeth, sat at the counter, slowly spooning dry cereal into her mouth. "Jeez Boots, any regular twelve-year-old girl should be able to get ready on time." My sister was in Junior year, almost done with high school, and so smart she could probably skip the next year and go to college straight away.

"Like you were any better!" She shot back, grabbing a granola bar from the cupboard.

"I was, unlike Gregor."

Gregor had been attending a university in New York for a couple years after much persistent persuasion on his part towards his parents. He was the eldest and tended to be very overprotective, carrying a constant paranoia with him wherever he went, portrayed in the odd collection of objects he carried with him. He was constantly sticking flashlights and bottles of water in her backpack pockets when he was around.

"Touché," Boots said, pointing finger guns at Lizzie. She grinned and pointed one back shooting it. The younger girl fell back, giggling, and caught herself on the counter.

"Well, bye, see you this afternoon!" The tween waved at Mom and Lizzie and made to walk out the door.

"Remember, Boots, we're going to visit Gregor in New York this afternoon," Mom said.

"Okay!" And with that, she stepped out the front door onto the dusty Virginian road.

...

Class was awful.

That's all anyone needed to know.

Boots spent her time staring out the window at the row of petite trees robed in splatters of autumn paint. A few leaves danced past the window, and grass bent under the force of the wind that trickled through the cracks of the frosted panes. The whistling eerily filled the room, interweaving with the professor's speech in a single melody. A roach danced upon the bookshelf, unnoticed, and the effect of the silence underneath everything was calming, mystical.

Boots mindscreamed at the dark insect to leave, sending airwaves of warnings in his direction. If he was seen by anyone else he'd surely get caught and killed on the spot. She sat transfixed, staring at the creature, so absorbed that she didn't hear the teachers question.