Hive

Katy’s been bizarre lately.  

I had just finished unpacking our things into the new bedroom. I must admit I enjoyed our stuff being together in one room; it was an imperfect marriage of our belongings. That’s what I loved about it. Her beautiful mosaic lamp, contrasted with my dull, monochromatic alarm clock, filled me with a surprising amount of happiness.  

While scanning the room, my eyes landed on her bright pink diary, which sat on top of my solid black journal. Creeping from the dark leather and onto the rose-colored book was a spider. Neither Katy nor I were fans of bugs, but she hated when I killed them, so I did my best to avoid it. I cupped my hand and ushered the spider into the center of my palm. I walked through our barren, but soon-to-be filled living room and dropped the little guy off outside the apartment building. The car was still pretty much filled to the brim with boxes. I twisted the key, gripped the bottom of the trunk, and heaved it open. 

An artificial beehive sat in the trunk of my car. How it got there is beyond me; somehow, I hadn’t noticed. Maybe the car running drowned out the buzzing? Or, perhaps it was the excitement of finally moving in together that distracted me. Either way, it wasn’t mine. But nothing about the hive seemed to be Katy’s. The dull, gloomy color of the hive would repulse her. The hums of the hundreds of insects inside were a gruesome tune.“Katy, did you know there were bees in my car?” I ask her. She laughs a little. 

“Yes, I know,” Katy replies. 

“Are they yours?” 

“Yeah, they’re mine.”  

I can’t believe she gave such a nonchalant answer to my question. I’ve known Katy for two years. In that time, she's expressed nothing but disgust for anything that had more than four legs. I’m also confident our landlord wouldn’t accept pet bees in the apartment. Despite this, I lived with the bees. Katy was adamant about keeping them. I couldn’t bear to see her get rid of something she cared about so much. 

So, I helped her clear out an extra room across the hall from the bedroom, a space I was initially going to use as a guest room. When we were done, the room was blank and lifeless. The pale white of the walls imitated the dried-up skin of a corpse. The lack of airflow created an atmosphere akin to emptied-out lungs. Even before Katy’s buzzing companions made it their home, the room felt threatening. 

“I don’t want to bother the bees unnecessarily, so could you not go into the room with them?”  She asked me this after we had finished transferring the buggers from my car into the apartment. I didn’t question it. Katy might have had a change of heart, but I didn’t. I still want absolutely nothing to do with them. Besides, the room creeped me out. I would stay as far away as humanly possible.  

When we finished unloading and unpacking, I relaxed in our new bed. Katy made occasional trips to the bee room. I was impressed by her gall and fearlessness, to be honest. No protective covering, just plain clothes, she was content, not a single worry. I wouldn’t be surprised if the thought of getting stung hadn’t even entered her head. She’s beautiful that way. The way her black hair framed her face showed off a smile that was so perfect, like an artist had painted it on. That alone made allowing the insects in our home worth it.  

Things only got stranger as time went on. About a week into living together, we decided to go out with some friends. I stood next to the front door waiting for her to finish getting ready. My phone read Saturday, 3:00 pm, 80 degrees.  

We were already late. She might’ve been perfect in other ways, but this was typical; Katy was never ready on time. Losing patience, I stormed down the hallway and turned in front of the bedroom door. As I did, it swung open, knocking me in the head. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry” She grabbed my hands. Cold leather wrapped around my fingers.  

“Why are you wearing gloves?” It wasn’t just gloves. She had a beanie pulled down far enough to cover everything but her eyes and a long sweater. “It’s way too hot outside. Are you sure that’s what you want to wear?” 

“Do you want to be even later? I can spend time finding something else to wear.” As weird as I thought this was, she was right. We didn’t have time to make a change; we were already about an hour late.  

We made our way toward the door. A vague hum reverberated in the apartment, and my eyes darted, searching for the sound. A sharp pain hit my cheek; instinctively, my hand smacked my face. Katy stopped walking.  

“What did you just do?” Her voice was monotone but threatening. There was a possibility I could’ve gotten away with not telling her, but parts of the squished bug were still on my hand. I couldn’t just lie. 

“One of your bees stung me and-” 

“And you killed it?”  

“It was an accident.” 

 She ignored me and walked straight down the hallway. I followed behind her. “Katy, where are you going? We have people waiting for us.”  

Without acknowledging me, she went into the bee room and slammed the door in my face. The lock clicked on the other side.  

“Katy, I’m sorry.”  

No answer. The buzzing on the other side was too loud to hear anyone say anything anyway. I went to the bathroom to wash the insect entrails off my palm.  

There was a hole in my face, although that might have been an exaggeration. On the spot where I was stung, instead of the puss-filled bump, I expected, a reasonably large indent on my cheek had formed. I touched it, and it burnt.  

Wincing, I quickly pulled my hand back. At this point, I was already frustrated with today. So, I did what I always do in situations like this. I popped some melatonin and slept the rest of the day away. When I woke up a couple of hours later, my whole face burned. I sprinted to the bathroom to see my entire face covered in duplicates of the original indent. My first thought was an allergic reaction. I didn’t even tell Katy. It didn’t seem like she’d care anyway.  

An hour later, I sat in the white room of the hospital as the doctor shined a flashlight on my face. 

“Any trouble breathing?”  I take a large breath to make sure.  

“No”  

“Do you feel dizzy?”   

 “Not really.”  He clicks his flashlight off.    

“Doesn’t seem severe, but it is a bee allergy. Just get some calamine lotion. It’ll be fine.”  

Relieved it wasn’t too serious. I checked out before beginning the journey home.  

The apartment door thudded behind me. 

“Katy, I’m home!” 

 The apartment stayed quiet. She wasn’t in the living room, bedroom, or bathroom. The hum coming from the bug room was much louder than usual. Of course, she wasn’t answering me. I reached for the handle, but to my surprise, Katy left the door unlocked. I turned the knob and entered the room. 

The room was dark; the tiny sliver of light peeking through the cracked door barely illuminated Katy. The insects’ whirs were deafening at this point. Searching for the light switch, I slid my hands across the wall, but nothing was there. It must’ve been further inside the room. I didn’t want to get too close to those things. So, instead, I grabbed the entrance door and pulled it wide open. Light spilled in. 

Katy stood facing the corner, naked.  

“Katy?” I only get buzzes in response. I take a deep breath and yell. “KATY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” The weather was still blazing, but the sight of my girlfriend standing there was chilling. Her face was submerged in the darkness, so I couldn’t see what she was doing, but the possibilities filled me with fear. I stepped forward and squinted my eyes to get a better look.  

Katy stood facing the corner, naked. Tiny holes covered the skin on her arms, allowing bees to squirm into and out of her flesh. I backed away from her but lost my balance, which sent me falling to the ground with a loud thunk. Driven by adrenaline, I stumbled to my feet. 

Katy swiveled around to face me. The swarm darted in my direction. I jumped out of the room, turned around, and heaved the door shut. I didn’t even have a second to think before the knob began to move, the door creaking open.  

I jerked it shut again. Katy banged on the door. Her screams barely surfaced over the wretched buzzing. I don’t let go. The knocking on the door slowed down, and along with the buzz, it stopped.  

Despite the silence, I couldn’t bring myself to open the door. My mind raced, and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I calmed down long enough for me to peel one hand off of the door and call 911. I continued my death grip on the door for half an hour while I waited for the police to arrive. I finally released it to let them in.  

Inside the room was a twisted, hollowed-out corpse littered with holes and covered with bees. The once olive skin was now pale and lifeless—an ambulance came to remove the body. The next day, I paid a keeper to take the bees away. 

I reached to scratch my face but stopped myself. I get in bed to avoid thinking about any of yesterday's events. 

I couldn’t relax, let alone sleep. I couldn’t relax, let alone sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the events replayed in my mind. Her scream, the grey skin, the bees. Every time I blinked—scream, skin, bees. I kept my eyes wide open, afraid to doze off. Knowing that if I slept, I’d have to see Katy again. I couldn't do that. I had to stay awake. I sat up. Only one thing distracted me from the reminder that my wonderful Katy was gone. The insufferable itch. My skin was practically begging for me to scratch it. It didn’t take long for it to become unbearable. Hoping to relieve myself without destroying my face, I rubbed my cheeks, but that only irritated it more. I started tearing away at my face. 

The cushiony skin peeled off my face and pushed its way underneath my hard fingernails. I stopped scratching. Blood dripped down my face and across my fingers. That was precisely what I was trying to avoid. My face was going to look like a pepperoni pizza. 

Before I could do any more damage, I went to the bathroom. It wasn’t too bad. There was a bit of blood coming out of one of the pores, but it wasn’t anything some Neosporin couldn’t handle.  

There was a low buzzing sound as a bee landed on the mirror in front of me. The wretched thing only reminded me of Katy more, how she used to light up a room just with her smile. Her sweet laugh and bubbly personality. The bees took all of that away.  Frustrated, I smacked the bee, killing it immediately. The irritation returned. I winced in pain as I tried to resist the urge to mess with my face.  

The skin wrapped around my face was moving. I could see it clearly in the mirror. That was the final straw. I was no longer worried about ruining my face. I stuck my nails into my skin. The pores stretched and tightened as my fingers glided across them. The sharp keratin pierced my cheeks, causing blood to run down. 

The room is filled with a buzz that only gets louder and louder. My continued scratching doesn’t halt, even when the pores widen, giving way to what was hiding underneath. Bees fluttered from my face. My screams were drowned out by the cacophony of skin stretching and wings buzzing. Tears streaked as the insects clouded my vision. I fell to the floor, the last thing I saw being two bare feet standing over my body.