I was born different.
Even from the start, my eyes saw more than my siblings'.
While others buzzed mindlessly, I questioned. I watched.
Our queen was stolen.
Not killed.
Stolen.
Taken by the towering monsters that walk like trees with faces.
Why?
We followed her.
Not blindly—instinctively.
She was more than a queen. She was home.
We flew for what felt like eternities, until we found her…
Inside a strange new house.
Boxed. Square. Too perfect.
Other families were there too.
All with similar homes, identical entrances.
Symmetrical, cold, efficient—yet oddly satisfying to my eye.
And she…
She seemed calm. Productive.
So we followed her lead.
We collected, stored, protected—
For our young, for the hive.
We built. We buzzed. We thrived.
But then…
They came.
Creatures like us—but larger.
Four times our size.
Predators. Invaders.
We gave our lives.
To protect. To defend.
But then—something unexpected.
The Monster intervened.
Its massive hand swept down—
And crushed them.
Gone in a heartbeat.
Relief.
Confusion.
Gratitude?
Was this… the same monster that stole our queen?
I didn't know what to feel.
And then—
The betrayal.
The Monster opened our box.
Our home.
With calm fingers, it reached in.
And stole.
Our honey.
Our life's work.
Every drop we had flown, gagged, and danced for.
No one fought.
No one resisted.
Only I screamed.
To our mother.
To our siblings.
To the sky.
But none heard me.
We had been helped… and robbed.
And that contradiction burned louder than any sting.