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Secrets of a Queen bee

Real Poetic's February prompt

By Novel AllenPublished 2 months ago β€’ 2 min read
17

Massa had me tend the bees. I understand them and they understand me. They be biting me so many times, that now they no longer do. I believe that the bee venom in now a part of my blood and they can smell and sense it. I read in secret about the likes of bees.

As a child of Mama Mynda and the white Massa's son, I am considered neither black nor white, I feel lost in between it all. Still, I feel very much Black deep down inside me.

I was playmate for the white daughter in the big house, we were the same age. They never realized, but I paid keen attention when she learned her lessons, me sitting quietly in the corner, listening and observing. I learned the letters and sat close as she struggled to form them. Then I went home with the scraps of paper and discarded ink containers, using sticks and anything available to practice in secret, hiding my work to preserve my life.

As the years passed, she went off to schooling somewhere and I tended the bees. My speaking and writing could rival any white person's. I learned to never speak White around them, and I bided my time.

I saw my people killed, beaten and inhumanely treated. I myself had felt the lashes upon my back, innocently earned by a jealous wife who could not tame her wayward man's desires. The Massa's son loved to dress me in fine clothing in the little house he had built for me, how she hated me. Did she not know that I loathed them just as much, that I had no choice in the matter. She knew, she just did not care, and it gave her great evil satisfaction to see me suffer.

I learned my writing. I used the nectar and honeycomb to make my skin glow despite the cruel treatment, he always made sure that my face be unscarred by the awful whip, she hated me even more for it. I had to remain lookable for my plan to work.

That February night in 1827, I organized my people in the dark. I opened the window and released a great swarm of bees inside the house while they slept. George, my friend, stuck one in the foreman and his cronies quarters as well.

That night we ran.

........................................................................................................

Real Poetic's February challenge

PsychologicalMicrofiction
17

About the Creator

Novel Allen

Every new day is a blank slate. Write something new.

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Comments (11)

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  • Lamar Wiggins2 months ago

    I loved the use of the bees in your piece. It added a uniqueness to the plot. Very creative, Novel. Loved it!

  • My only difficulty with this escape plan is that it means waking everyone up with all the bees & alerting them that something is amiss. Of course, if they be allergic to bee stings, that would make my concern rather moot.

  • Real Poetic2 months ago

    Wow!!! What an escape plan!!! I loved it. ❀️ So captivating and believable!

  • Tiffany Gordon 2 months ago

    gorgeous work Novel! πŸ‘πŸΎπŸ‘πŸΎπŸ‘πŸΎπŸ‘πŸΎβœŠπŸΎ

  • Sid Aaron Hirji2 months ago

    It is the case ppl can relate to animals more than apathetic humans nowadays. Release those bees!

  • Oooo, hehehehehehe I love that she released the bees inside! That was brilliant! Your story was so awesomeeee!

  • Gerard DiLeo2 months ago

    Extraordinary!

  • Very powerful message. Well done!!!

  • Cathy holmes2 months ago

    This is a great entry. Well done.

  • Daphsam2 months ago

    Well written!

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