The Swarm - A Short Story

The air was thick with the fluttering of millions of winged insects.  You could hardly take a breath without some flying down your throat.  It was upon us.  Termite season.

Every Louisianian knew this time of year was a time of hiding.  When the sun started to dip below the horizon, anyone who was outside would quickly shuffle to the safety of the indoors and shut off the lights, lest the Swarm infiltrate their domicile, because once they were in, there was no escape.  They fluttered through the air like confetti at a rave, crawling out of never nook and cranny, every air vent, every outlet.  They were relentless.

Amelia sat quietly in her home, having long since shut off the outdoor lights, hoping the bugs would leave her be this season.  She closed her book and walked to the bedroom.  Shutting off the light, she crawled into bed, the cool sheets pulling her in deeper. 

Just before she fell asleep, she felt it.  At first, she thought it was just a tingle in her leg, but she grabbed a flashlight and looked under the covers to be met with a termite crawling on her.  She smashed it and shuddered.  Several minutes later she felt it again, on her arm this time.  Same thing – flashlight, termite, smash, bed.  The third time, she got up, turned on the light, and flipped the covers back.  Just as she did, her mattress burst open and erratically-flying termites filled the air.  She screamed only for them to fly into her mouth, causing her to gag and vomit.  

She ran to grab the bug spray, hoping her one remaining can of Raid would be enough.  She sprayed until the can was empty, but it was too late.  She was Marked.  She began crying, realizing her fate.  There was no one to call as no one would risk their life to save a Marked one.  She screamed and cried, choking on more bugs.  She swatted them off her skin only for more to land as they began to envelop her.  She fought as hard as she could, but she couldn’t overpower the Swarm. 

By the time morning arrived, all was quiet.  There were few signs the Swarm had even been in her home – a sprinkling of discarded wings, a few dead insects from Amelia swatting at them, and a new addition - a hole-filled wooden figure where Amelia last stood.  If you looked closely enough, you would swear it was Amelia herself – the resemblance was uncanny.  Just then, one lone termite chewed through the place where her heart would be and flew off, leaving the wooden figure alone in the house once more.