JULY 2007

The view of freshly cut grass spread in her uncle's garden was pleasing, no bit was too little or too small - everything just equal.

Beatrice had never visited her uncle's house before, he lived in Nebraska and had usually came to Derry to visit the family. He was a kind man, with a plump stomach and a taste for plum pie. His craving left him with an almost permanent purple stain on the inner portion of his lips, making him look like the most vibrant corpse to ever exist. Tim Munro was her mother's brother, he was always very protective of his niece seeing as he couldn't have children himself. As a loving nickname, her father would call her 'honeybee' as she buzzed around in his garden pretending to be one.

Compared to their humble condo in Derry, uncle Tim's house was like a garden of Eden. His love for vivid greens and yellows was evident by the constant use of them and the impressive garden and greenhouse. Bea was given the opportunity to run free, with some exceptions.

She was NEVER to go into the woods beside his house alone. Never ever, uncle Tim had said.

Her father, Clark, warned of the creatures that lurked within. The ones that thirsted for you in the shadows.

This was all just a big show to prevent her from leaving the house. There was a bee farm nearby and millions of bees had been found in the garden. Her father was deathly allergic to them, despite ironically even naming his child after the creature. Clark Tremaine was a rational person, he knew his daughter was going to explore the world one day and that was a-okay. She couldn't be his little girl forever, so she could be his little girl for now and they'd experience each day hand in hand together. Her mother, Margot was the opposite. She was over protective and strict, intending for Bea to get into one of the best schools in the country and not caring if her feelings were hurt. Margot didn't care if she had to treat her daughter like a machine, Bea was getting pushed to the top whether she was afraid of heights or not.

Beatrice was unique, she saw the world as a bright open plane ready to be ran on. The world was bright and full of colour, and she was just a dot on the canvas. She understood her potential and wasn't aware of the negativity and deception that resided out there in the universe.
She'd soon come to realise that this place was a disease that needed to be exterminated. Her happiness and light would be ripped away from her, leaving her with an empty cavern inside.

Bea was a lonely girl. And lonely girls had the best imaginations.

From the backseat of her car, she could be an astronaut going to Neptune or here in this field she could be a simple little bumblebee, buzzing around without a care in the world.

"Beatrice." Margot sternly called out, startling and interrupting the girl from her thoughts. The girl innocently looked up at her mother with a pureness in her eyes that wasn't yet destroyed by the harsh world.

"Yes, mama?" The little girl called back, her fake wings bouncing as she ran towards her mom. The woman inspected her daughter's face for a few moments, she looked just like her father.

"Get that horrendous costume off." She dragged her indoor by the strap of her yellow and black stripped costume and yanked her into the guest bedroom. Bea obeyed her mother, she didn't want to know what would happen if she rebelled. She laid still as Margot changed her into a pair of dungarees that made her legs itch desperately. Bea didn't want to tell her though, she'd only shout at her.

Uncle Tim and papa were laughing in the kitchen. The two men got along like two peas in a pod and you'd think they were the siblings. Tim and Margot were polar opposites, in fact he didn't particularly even like his sister.
Ever since his own childhood, he saw the bad within her. The controlling, overbearing side that only her immediate family saw. On the outside she seemed like the perfect mother and wife. How wrong they all were.

"Heya honeybee, watcha doin'?" Clark asked, taking a break out of his conversation.
"Momma made me change. Said she didn't like me being a bee."

He looked up at his wife with judging eyes. She was just a child, she deserved to play and laugh and have fun. Not be dragged around.

"Oh? Did she? Well, I thought you looked lovely sweet pea." Her face beamed and she looked into her father's eyes.

"I love you papa." She grabbed onto him in a bear hug as he reciprocated it. Tim almost shed a tear thinking about what it'd be like to have kids. He never settled down and had thought about adoption but he was so insecure about raising a child by himself.

Margot rolled her eyes and grabbed the girl by the dungaree strap. "Time to go and play."

The woman gave her a ball and pushed her back out to the green grass, wanting to go back to her unfinished glass of wine in the kitchen and away from the constant migraine in her life that was Beatrice Tremaine.

The child bounced happily, kicking and throwing the ball as she pleased on the open field. Her feet squished against the greenery as she blissfully played without a care in the world.

Until she somehow kicked the ball directly into the woods.

She froze. Stuck in a moment of conflict. Calculating what she should do.

She could go back and tell mom, but if she did that she'd shout at her, lock her indoors for the rest of the trip.
She could just leave it, the creatures might like if they had a toy to play with. Maybe it'd make them nice.

Or she could go in and get it herself.

Yes, papa and uncle Tim had told her never ever, but she'd only be in there for 1 minute. She'd grab the ball and leave, surely she wouldn't get hurt?

But the woods were not a nice place for an innocent little girl and she feared that the creatures would eat her any second when she couldn't find her ball. She tried and tired to look around and see but the environment had dimmed and there was no light seeping in. Bea was trapped and the only thing she could do to escape was go deeper into the woods. As a child, she thought she'd find the ball any second now. It wasn't until she could hear the extremely faint calling of her name that she realised she was in big, big trouble.

Clark was panicking, screaming out her name. Margot swirled what was left of the blood like liquid in her glass and tried to assure him she couldn't of gone far. Not that she cared.

It was only when he heard the little "papa" being shouted in the woods that he realised where he was. Tim was currently in the kitchen, phoning the neighbours to check if she was there.
The situation was so overwhelming that without a second thought, he ran after her.

He swatted roots away from his face in order to get to his princess faster, his arms slowly being covered in small cuts.

Bea couldn't really remember the details now. What she could remember was her father dying of allergic reaction in front of her eyes. He'd swatted the bees and they didn't like that and Bea was left crying over his swollen corpse until her mother bothered to inform Tim an hour later that her husband had retreated into the woods looking for her daughter. They found her covered in stings, screaming out for her long gone papa and dragged her away from the unrecognisable view of him.

The sight of all those bees traumatised her so much that they grew to have terrifying connotations in her mind. If a room went quiet enough, she could still hear the faint buzzing and had to wear earphones to block out the noise. She'd have constant nightmares about the incident years to come. Her mother swept it under the rug and happily went with the insurance money.

That was the day the light went out in Beatrice Tremaine's heart. The day her mother stopped her from seeing her uncle ever again after he threatened to call child services on her, despite him not doing anything remotely wrong. Bea learned to detest everyone around her and keep her head in the books with her mother's talons pushing her head down, making sure it stayed there.

Deep down though, she would always be her dad's honeybee.