Ants
Charlie picked up the pencil and stabbed the paper again. If he couldn’t pass basic robotics, he’d never make it as an engineer. His parents would disown him, and he’d have to sweep floors for a living. He’d seen the others.
Why did school have to be so difficult? Charlie asked. He’d rather spend his days outside and inside with delicious coffee and well-written books. One day, he hoped to publish his own short work since he had little talent writing novels.
While Charlie felt sorry for himself, a little creepy ran across his desk. Looking down, he saw a busy ant scurry off of the surface and back to the half opened window. It had six legs of annoyance and ten seconds to live.
Charlie shut the door as fast as he could. He figured the thing was a minor disruptor, and he went back to his endless drills. His curly, brown hair grabbed him as he attempted to straighten it out. The words got lost in a translation of sorrow.
Suddenly, Charlie noticed another being run across his page with quick legs and a dark body that helped him hide in the warm dirt.
I wonder what it would be like to be an ant, Charlie mused. He pushed the back of his office chair until the thick plastic mated with the floor. Blood gushed like a waterfall down his face. The hard, wooden floor refused him mercy. Not only, but the thin pages had mixed in with the mess.
“DAMMIT!” Charlie yelled. The neighbor beneath his apartment banged on the wall. He salvaged his assignment as much as possible. The pages laughed at him from their crypt. He’d never finish.
Getting up, he gathered the pages and laid them next to his desk.
Why me? He asked the cosmos. What great offense could he have possibly inflicted upon the universe? Outside, the wind breathed, and the small Aloe Vera plant swayed its juicy arms. Lightning came down and cursed a tree. The tree shifted east and west then a great branch fell down like a dead baby.
Charlie made his way back to his desk. The bleeding had stopped. Now there was the chore of cleaning the flood up. He picked up the disordered papers. Suddenly, three ants appeared and ran across his desk like little commandos.
“Why have you been employed to destroy my future?!” He asked of the small creatures. They paid him no mind in their quest for food. The leader of them disappeared first. The others left Charlie’s sight. He decided to let it go.
I need a drink, he told himself. He’d go for some whiskey. Recently, he’d passed the twenty one year mark, and this surprised him somehow. Life had roared into his ears a few times. He’d die without a future, a tiny voice within said, teasing him with his own thoughts.
Whiskey left the bottle and went into the glass of ginger ale. He used the last can. This also caused him to feel annoyance despite the sweet flow of heaven dripping down his throat. He’d always loved whiskey, enjoyed the way it made him feel. As a small boy, his grandfather allowed him a small drink of the delicious liquid. He’d smiled and hugged the old man.
Thinking of his grandfather made him sad. The great man had passed away with his old bones demanding an eternal break, his leather skin hardened like a saddle and his teeth running off with youth’s shine. Still, he had that emotion, a fire about him. Even in his last days, he hadn’t gone without a fight, but he’d gone.
Life is cruel, Charlie informed himself, trying to feel more like an adult who accepted the world for what it was and had secured a place for themselves where they belonged.
Another ant ran across the desk, his dark body highlighted like an equation of life. Charlie couldn’t take it anymore, and he slammed his hand to the desk and killed the small fiend. It thrashed between life and death eventually giving up and fading into the unknown.
A power rose up inside of him.
“That’s what I thought,” Charlie said. His voice bled with triumph. “Let another one come,” he teased. And one came. Quickly, Charlie smashed it against the red blood on his paper. The ant died. His companion, at first unseen, rose up and sprinted towards the edge of the desk. Charlie got him, too.
“You are too slow for me!” Charlie laughed, vibrating his chubby stomach. He put his hands on it and giggled like a girl. For once in his life, he had power, able to bring life to its end. He had become a demigod. These were his thoughts.
A knocking came at the door pulling Charlie away from his internal monologue. The abrupt disturbance in his thoughts caused him to lose track. He got up from his desk and went to the hard, wooden door.
When Charlie opened the door, he gasped. Fear took over his eyes, and they bulged out, trying to take the view into his mind. His tongue rattled, but no words came out from Charlie’s lips.
It can’t be! It can’t.
Charlie tried to shut the door, but a long leg grabbed back with hideous strength. In front of him was a giant, live ant. This information wouldn’t process in Charlie’s shocked brain.
“Go away! I don’t need any bug spray. How much did they pay you?”
“Sir, I believe you misunderstood. I am an officer.”
Charlie took a step back, and the body came in.
“You sure keep your place messy. Did you ever think you were guilty of a crime instead of blaming the vulnerable?”
Charlie couldn’t get the words to roll out of his mouth. He backed up.
“You are a criminal for killing those small ants,” the officer said. He pointed to the badge on his head. “For this, I’m afraid death is the only option.” The officer pulled out a knife from his backpack. He teased it back and forth until he stabbed Charlie. Blood sprayed everywhere, but Charlie couldn’t clean up this mess.
