Outside, everything was absolutely perfect. The sun was out, unblocked by clouds. The wind, which had been eluding the small town, finally graced it with its humble presence. And, along with a nice feeling of coolness, the wind also added to the serene white noise that already filled the air; with its orchestra composed of birds, frogs, and bugs. Oh, the bugs. Our young protagonist, Julie, simply loved bugs. In the small town of Midton, there weren't many things for a child to do. No amusement park. No aquarium. No Star n' Strikes. No pools, lakes, or ocean. The only place young children had for entertainment was a run down park and a library. And so, of course, Julie hung out at the park. She didn't like using the rundown playground or hiking the unpaved trails, however. She, instead, loved wandering around the park looking for bugs.

                       Julie loved bugs of all types. Butterflies, ladybugs, dragonflies, bumblebees, and horned beetles. Centipedes, wasps, waterbugs, horseflies, slugs and roaches. She didn't particularly care for spiders, since they weren't technically bugs. But other than them, she loved all of the creepy crawlies most would detest. She would often capture them in jars, and release them a while later. She would research them- draw sketches of them and write little notes. It was strange, but not obsessive; Julie was merely a child after all, and she was just quenching her natural curiosity that all children are born with. As such things go, it didn't last for very long. After two years of bug notes and insect art, she stopped. Not necessarily because she outgrew it; although that would certainly have been the case sooner or later. But no, it was because her parents decided it was time to move. Her parents were tired of the southern accents, the barely-working traffic lights, the farms, the lack of cash to do much of anything. Like all adults around their age, they decided to run away from what they saw as the source of their problems (even though the southern accents and the traffic lights and the farms had absolutely nothing to do with the real reason why they moved. Money might, though.). The family of three moved to Boston, with its 'cute' apartments, and 'cute' streets, and its 'cute' stores. After a week of living there, Julie decided that it wasn't 'cute' at all. There was too much noise, her parents were gone for too many hours at a time, and most importantly, there weren't enough bugs. That's not to say that there weren't any bugs at all- there were some flies, and there were a couple of roaches-at least until her parents hired an exterminator. Now, after a few months of living there, Julie still didn't think Boston was 'cute'-but she had moved on from bugs and was more interested in the "city life", as her parents called it.                                                

                  A few years down the road, and Julie has completely forgotten about her love of bugs. She's eighteen now; a child disguised poorly as an adult by society's constructs. But Julie doesn't realize this. She thinks she's a real adult now, with her part-time job and her boyfriend and her driver's license that she'll never be able to use anyway. So, with this in mind, she leaves the nest and leaves her parents, who are now tired of the Boston accents and the stop-and-go traffic and the grey weather and the loud noise, and who are contemplating another move. She gets her own apartment, she buys her own furniture. She moves in. Julie isn't as observant as she used to be; she doesn't notice the little things anymore. She thinks she is grown up. She thinks that with this, she can be completely independent, grounded and strong. How terribly wrong she is. For as hard as it is to admit; she doesn't live in the real world- where most things are known and where there are no physical demons out to get you, only metaphorical ones. She lives in this story, and this story doesn't have a happy ending. At least, not for Julie. For the bugs, maybe.      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  After a night of organizing and decorating, Julie had decided to bask in the glory of her apartment. It was small but nice, with a kitchen, a bathroom, a living room, and a bedroom. It was decorated with the colors of grey and cyan and seafoam green, and it was furnished with small sofas and glass tables and dreamcatchers. Everything was new and fresh. It made Julie feel satisfied, and it almost washed away the feelings of sickness and fatigue that had been plaguing her. But it didn't, not really. Julie sighed and wobbled to the bathroom. Why was she feeling so queasy? Maybe it was because she had eaten hamburgers for the last three nights in a row from her job. Or maybe it was because last night her parents left her a message saying they might be 'gone for a while'. Whatever the case, this stomach ache needed to stop.          

                           As Julie shut the door, she felt a bout of nausea. Rushing to the toilet, she hurriedly opened the lid and vomited violently, letting loose those free hamburgers and discounted sodas that she had been eating. After emptying her stomach, she didn't feel particularly better, which was odd, since Julie was pretty sure she hurled everything in her stomach out already. As she peered into the bowl to look at the contents, she flinched back, slamming her head into the bathroom wall. Hitting her head was painful, but she didn't give a cry of pain. How could she even think about pain when she was still busy thinking about the things in the toilet? For within the toilet, mixed with the vomit, were slimy, disgusting bugs. Now, if Julie had remembered her bug research, she would have known that these were maggots, fly larvae, but she didn't remember and was too busy focused on the fact that they were disgusting. Small and slimy, with beady eyes and squirming bodies. Julie hopped up and hurriedly flushed the toilet, sending the bugs to the sewers and away from her sight. She then stood up and leaned against the wall. Her skin felt sweaty and clammy, and her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She felt... bad. Worse than how she felt when her parents had told her they were moving that first time, worse than how she felt when her boyfriend had cheated that first time, worse than anything she could possibly put into words. And indeed, it was bad. Even her parents' existential crises couldn't possibly compare. It wasn't just earth-shattering terror and anxiety- it was more. The nausea and fatigue, which had been nestled at the back at her mind, suddenly spiked. Her head exploded, her stomach cried in pain. She thought that how she felt earlier was bad, but compared to this, it was child's play.      

            Julie staggered to the living room, looking for her phone. She collapsed halfway there, writhing in pain. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out- only bugs. Hundreds of insects, of all different kinds, came crawling out of her mouth, and nose, and ears. Thick, black centipedes, with hundreds of spindly legs. 2-inch long cockroaches with wandering antennas. Buzzing flies, with kaleidoscope eyes and long tongues. They poured onto the floor in droves. They covered the wooden floorboards, and climbed onto the walls. And the noises these creatures made were most certainly not white noise, as they had often been in the past. Instead, it was almost like a siren; loud, high-pitched, and unrelenting. At this point, our young protagonist's mind and body were breaking down. Her mind was filled with the buzzing of the insects, and sheer horror and disbelief that had filled her ever since the beginning of this horrid day. Her body was in an even worse state than her mind, if you can believe it; gaping holes had begun to appear upon her. Large, deep, and numerous, they decorated her skin, turning it into pumice. The rest of her organs were also in a similar state. Large holes caused by the horde of bugs within her were appearing everywhere-or maybe they were always there, and she hadn't noticed until it was too late.

Too late.

           As she approached the end, Julie wondered to herself; Was it too late to go back? Back to the small town of Midton? Back to when she loved bugs and they loved her? Back to when there was nothing to worry about; only southern accents and winding roads and the hot sun beating down on her? She kept thinking such thoughts to herself, even as her eyes began to unfocus and her heart began to stop. Now at this point, any logical person would have been full of terror and confusion. After all, no one wants to die. Even more so, no one wants to die from something so nightmarish and ghastly- something that's completely out of their control and understanding. However, Julie was far past being logical, far past having any sense of sanity. Instead, as she sunk into the sea of millipedes and roaches and beetles, she had only one thought.

Was it too late?