Jan 9, 2014: 1984
The buzzing. All I can hear is the buzzing. It vibrates in my teeth and shakes me to the bone. It’s a chilling sound that has me frozen in place. My muscles won’t react to my prompts. My brain is screaming at me to move, get out of here, but my body won’t let me.
I can see them. They flit and fly all around me. Their lacy wings brush my arms and cheeks. I can pick out their varieties. There are meat bees, bumblebees and wasps. I can see no escape. They cover every inch of the room. The door is made invisible by a mass of hives and nests that line the walls.
Suddenly, the buzzing ceases. The walls stop shimmying and my bones stop rattling. The stinging things creep away through unseen cracks in the walls. For a brief moment, I think my torment is over.
Then I feel the heat. The temperature is rising fast. My skin begins to feel warm, at first, and then hot. It’s getting so hot. I smell smoke. Where is that coming from? I see it now, drifting over me and starting to settle around me as I huddle in the corner.
Instinctively, I crouch lower to the ground, but the floor is red hot and it burns my exposed skin. The walls are glowing. The wasps’ nests are melting. They burst into flames. This causes the walls to go up in a blaze like no other.
The smoke is choking me and the flames lick at my arms and legs. Every part of me stings and burns. I’m crawling, trying to escape, but I’m on fire. My clothing is patchy and parts of it have melted into my skin. The pain is unbearable.
Everything is glowing white with the most intense heat. The smoke is making my eyes hurt, and my head is starting to ache. My chest feels tight and I know I’m not getting enough oxygen.
I am wishing for a way out.
I wish I had only the bees in the room with me again.