Panic: A short story

It seemed like a good idea at the time

To bust around

Flipping tables and

Smash furniture

I can’t remember giving

The police my name

But at some point

I must have

Because all the sudden

My mother was

Screaming at me

In the mall cafeteria

How dare you behave like this!

This isn’t how I raised you!

I stopped my smashing

And thrashing to

Blankly stare at

The woman in front of

me

In that moment of

Pause, I regained

Part of my sanity

And started to cry

How did I become like

This

Who am I?

Who looked back at me

In the mirror this

Morning?

The mall police took

My stopping as a sign

Of resolve and

Stepped closer in

My mother ran to

Me and hugged me

Tight

Forcing my arms to

My sides

So I couldn’t move

Them

At that same moment

She hit my wrist

And something thudded

To the floor

A soda can,maybe?

I heard shouts

From all directions

As my face

Became smothered in

My mother’s

Shoulder

Who knew you could revert back

To childhood so easily?

As a sob left my mouth

My mother whispered

This is not how I raised you

Honey

Honey

Sweet sappy stuff

Bees spend all their

Lives making for winter

Sticky to touch

Yummy to taste

Honey, I love you

I love you, honey

I think she meant

It for the

Bees

We walked together out of

The cafeteria

Glass and wood

About me

Like a jigsaw puzzle

Someone didn’t finish

I looked down

And saw the

Thing I had been holding

Drew my breath in

It wasnt a soda can

Or even a knife

It was a Barbie doll

With her

Arms stretched high

In the sky

As if to say

“This is not how I raised you

Honey”

I’ve always hated bees

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