The Horror of The Bee

By Anthony Z.


It was a lovely day in Greenville, New York. I slouched on our black, fluffy sofa and watched some funny internet videos on my phone. I wasn’t paying much attention to our small backyard brimming with delicious green pear trees. It was spring, and our pear trees were blooming. You could see the green, tiny pears growing in-between the pink and red petals of the tree’s flowers. The juicy, ripe pears are usually ripe for picking in the summer. When I eat a pear each summer, a punch of sweetness and juiciness fills my mouth. There is a satisfying crunch against my teeth. Sometimes, my mom and I use those pears to make pear juice, and it’s so delicious and refreshing.


One day, I was in my backyard getting some fresh air. I hadn’t gone outside ever since quarantine started: a whole month ago. A few minutes after I came outside, a big fat bee came into our backyard. Shocked, I scrambled back into my house, gasping for air.


“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, get away from me!” I yelled.


I ran inside, still screaming, and went straight to my dad.


“Dad, there’s a bee in the backyard!” I hollered.


“So?” my dad said, dazed by my yelling.


“It’s a bee! It had a stinger and almost stung me!” I, in much calmer tone, said.


“Ok, let me see what I can do,” my dad replied, now walking to the garage to retrieve the bug spray.

You might wonder why I went to my dad, not my mom. My dad and I have a special relationship. We do everything together. We work on my studies together and vent about our grievances. One time, I was stuck on a math problem and couldn’t figure out the solution. When I told my dad, he knew already why I was struggling. He knows exactly what I need all the time.


This bee was big, and it buzzed so loudly that you could hear it from a mile away. It was like the bee was having a rock concert. The bee had thick black and yellow stripes. The most deadly thing about this bee was that it had such a big stinger. It could have rendered a baby cow unconscious. After my dad retrieved the green and blue can of bug spray, my dad started analyzing the bee intensely. Since it wasn’t harming or helping our poor pear trees, he decided it was okay, and left it roaming in our backyard.


You might be wondering, why did I hate the bee’s buzz so much? In general, I don’t care about the action of the bees because they are helpful to our wonderful pear trees. Generally, they do their job, but this bee is just a nuisance. I like to do my work in peace. When I work in peace, I always produce my best work. When there are distractions, I start to slack. The bee’s buzzing was getting in the way of my success in studying. I couldn’t focus, and it started to take up more time to produce quality work, which started to mess with my schedule. When my plan starts to go down the drain, I start panicking. I get angry because I have to change my plans all over again, and every time I have to do that, it makes me cranky. I get in a very bad mood for the rest of the day.

I divide my planning into these four main categories: music, studies, fun, and gaming. The music part is my musical instruments like the trombone and the piano. The studies part is my learning and anything that has to do with education. The fun part is my relaxing and my cooling -down sensation. I would watch Youtube videos and surf the internet. Lastly, the gaming part is when I’m playing with my friends in Minecraft, Roblox, or any gaming website. I like to plan out with times and intervals so I can transfer from one category to another. When I do things late, I have to change all of the time and play less video games with friends. It gets so tedious. Without the bee, I could do x amount of work. With the bee around, I can only do y work and y is less than x.


Outraged, I said, “What do you mean it’s ok? It tried to sting me.”


My dad calmly replied, ”Don’t worry, it will go away. Just ignore it. It probably won’t come back.”

You might think, the bee helps the plants, right? This bee was not a worker, it was a drone. Though most drones don’t have stingers, this was a special bee.


The next day, I came out of the house to get some fresh air again. This time, I brought my phone with me. I wanted to show my friends the bee on Snapchat. I wanted my friends to see how big and annoying it was. A lot of people gave me support and told me to put the bee to its end. While waiting for the bee, I played a game on my phone, relaxing in the sun. After 20 minutes of waiting, I got impatient and decided the bee wasn’t coming back to our backyard again, like my dad said. I was absolutely wrong. 30 minutes after I went inside my cool house, the bee drifted back into our yard with its annoying buzz. It was like the bee was late to his job interview and didn’t care that it was late. Then, when the interviewer asks it questions, it would reply with a loud arrogant buzz. After I noticed the irritating bee again, I ran to my dad as fast as I could.


“Dad,” I said. “The bee is back.”


“It is?” my dad said. “Alright, I’ll deal with it this time.”


My dad got the bug spray again and decided he would successfully end the bee this time.


My dad made up a plan and told me the whole scheme.


“Okay, here’s what we are going to do,” my dad said.


“Okay,” I replied.

“I’m going to grab the bug spray and put my arm out the door,” my dad said.


“Okay,” I said, thinking that this was a good plan.


“Then when the bee comes close to me, I’ll spray him,” My dad said, in a much more evil voice.


“Sounds good so far,” I said, already bored after he told me the first step.


“When the bee comes at me, I’ll slam the door,” my dad concluded.


“Okay,” I said.


“What I need you to do is to stay quiet. Can you do that?” my dad said in a quiet voice.


“Yes I can!” I replied happily.


After explaining the plan, we put the plan into action.


When the bee came to my dad, he said in an angry voice, “Be gone you, bee! Be gone you, bully!”


When the bee didn’t change its state, my dad yelled, “BE GONE.”


”Well done, Dad,” I said sarcastically.


“Be quiet, Anthony, we may have won,” my dad said.


“We did? We did! Let’s celebrate,” I replied.


We were victorious, and started celebrating that we beat the bee. We started celebrating and repeatedly high-fived.


Our victory ended quickly.


The next morning, I planned on going outside to my lovely backyard, but the bee was faster than me and was already there, buzzing annoyingly. I could feel myself boiling over the top with anger and frustration. I went back upstairs and woke up my half-sleeping dad from his sleep.


“Dad, the bee is here again,” I groaned.


My dad was still half-asleep.“What?”


“The bee, it came back,” I said again.


“The bee, again? Ugh, okay, give me a few minutes,” my dad said, now wide awake.


He grudgingly got up and started spraying the bee again. The bee was furious, but it stayed in our backyard. It could not understand the fact that it was fired. I could hear my dad’s anger boiling hot. He was clenching his fists so hard that he could have squished a juicy, ripe watermelon between them.

My dad continued spraying for many long-lasting, hot days. Since the bee was there, I couldn’t get the fresh air I really needed. I could feel myself getting a little bummed out. Half of me wanted to go outside, while the other half didn’t want to. It was like a civil war inside my body. I hated the bee and its buzz. I couldn’t even concentrate on my important school work. It was so hard doing productive work when I could hear the annoying bee at the same time. Over time, I got even more bummed and could feel my insides withering and blowing away, but one thing about this bee made me think that it was different.


My dad was able to get a grasp on the bee and sprayed it multiple times. You could hear the hissing of the spray clearly. Sometimes, my dad missed. Other times, my dad got it. Somehow my dad managed to spray the bee ten times. After those sprays, we thought we were victorious, but we were wrong. The most shocking part of this is that the bee seemed like nothing was happening to it and continued on with its regular routine. My dad started getting furious quickly. He started to breathe harder. I’m losing my mind to a bee, I thought.


“Argh, I can’t take it anymore! I quit! The bee wins!” my dad said, still furious.


After that, every time I complained about the bee, my dad just brushed it off and told me to do it myself, but I didn’t because I didn’t want to get stung.


After this incident, I felt even more bummed. I couldn’t go outside and couldn’t do anything in peace. I felt at this point that I was losing my mind and my brain was losing contact with the rest of my body. I slept longer and started surfing the internet more often. A few days later, I got used to it and didn’t pay any attention to that nasty bee. That wasn’t necessary anymore since the bee showed a clear indication that it won’t budge. Then, one miracle happened that ended this crisis.


A few days after my dad quit in frustration, I was surprised that the bee was missing. It was like it vanished into thin air. I waited for the bee and it never came. I had this feeling that the bee was gone forever. In retrospect, that claim was a little extreme and I was just very happy at the time. A few more days went by and the bee still didn’t show its face in our backyard. After this amazing proof I had, I went towards my dad and quickly told him the good news.


“Dad,” I said. “The bee is gone.”


“For real?” my dad said, doubting me.


“Yes, the bee is gone. It hasn’t been in the backyard for a few days,” I replied back.


“Really? Then let’s celebrate,” My dad said, now believing me.


Dad and I started celebrating in pure joy and happiness. We started to celebrate and actually won this time. After this incident, we noted that persistence was not the key to success. It was like we provoked the bee, so it stayed, but when we started ignoring the bee, it got bored and thought it wasn’t worth the time to taunt me and my dad.

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