Work Text:
Magnus Institute Statement Forum
NAME: Harper Beckett
DATE OF STATEMENT GIVEN: April 21st, 2007
STATEMENT CONCERNING: My relationship with my ex-boyfriend.
I can still hear it. The buzzing. It’s a low, constant thrum in the back of my head, right behind my ears. It doesn’t matter how loud my music is, or if I’m talking, or if I plunge my head in the bloody ocean, I even tried those noise canceling headphones once. The buzzing just won’t stop.
I had just been paired with my dormmate for our biology class, Alyssa Carmichael. She was nice enough, charming in her own way. But we were so different, she and I. I’m not ashamed to say I’m a perfectionist, I desperately try to keep my place tidy so I can get what I need with no struggle. I even created a schedule to ensure that I don’t lose time.
Alyssa had no issues with slacking off. She was much more content to flutter about and go partying on late nights. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Alyssa was well liked around campus. She just wasn’t the best dormmate. But we were friends and she didn’t… she didn’t deserve what happened.
Given our differences, arguments were a daily occurrence. Usually, they were small things, concerning clothing or hygienic habits. Others concerned larger issues, but were resolved by the weekend at the latest. We lived like this for about half a semester, but we made it work. Until sometime in late October last year.
We were doing a Botany unit and our assignment required us to bring in flowers for dissection. I wanted to discuss where we could find our specimens, but Alyssa brushed me off, stating we had plenty of time to figure it out. While she wasn’t wrong, I knew that if I didn’t have a plan, my anxiety would make it near impossible to work.
I tried to bring it up with her later, once classes were over. I walked in the dorm, ready to plead my case when I saw her curling her hair and wearing a sequin cocktail dress. I have no excuse for the nasty things I said. Frankly, I was tired from the day and knowing Alyssa’s tendency towards procrastination, I snapped.
Our argument wasn’t exactly friendly.
I stormed out, needing to clear my head and decided to take a walk down the street. By sunset, I was quite lost. I tried to find a shop or café that was open to ask for directions when I saw a small flower shop with its lights still on. Rhodes’ Roses read in fancy black script on the little wooden sign hanging above the door.
It was unsettling, the shop. It was still open for one. Flower shops usually close around five, but I still saw people milling around inside. Wasps flittered around the doorway despite the late hour. Oh, I know all about how they’re important for our survival and that they’re more scared of us then we of them; but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about their crawling legs skittering across my skin, the wings buzzing in my ears, their eyes, their stingers, their nest. The very thought made me ill.
Seeing as I didn’t have much of a choice, I rushed inside, trying not to agitate the nasty little things. I could still feel the buzzing along my spine as I entered. My hand reached for my back to feel for any unwanted visitors. I shivered as I found nothing.
The inside is what you would normally expect from a flower shop. Flowers and bouquets lined the walls in colorful arrangements. It was quiet, there was no music playing and the people I spied before entering had practically vanished. Not a soul in sight, except for the cashier.
He introduced himself as Jasper Rhodes, explaining how he owned the shop after inquiring about my business there. He was sympathetic about my predicament when I explained, and proceeded to write down directions on a spare piece of paper he had behind the counter. Upon glancing outside however, he offered to call a cab instead. I told him that it was fine and I could handle myself, but he insisted.
As we waited for the cab to arrive, we chatted for what seemed like hours. Jasper was quick witted and charming, and his looks weren’t something to sneeze at either. But I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. They seemed dulled and unfocused, but I told myself he was probably just tired. It was late, and who hadn’t felt tired working in retail?
When the cab arrived, my stomach churned at the fact that I would have to bypass the wasps again. But when Jasper opened the door to escort me out, none could be found. Like the people in the shop, they suddenly vanished. I chose not to question it. I was just thankful that they were gone.
We walked together to the side of the road where the cab was waiting for me. I thanked Jasper for his help and asked if there was anything I could do to repay him. I expected a joke or maybe a segue into advertising for his shop. Instead, he simply requested a date. Normally, I’m not one for romance. I had more important things to do than to fiddle with matters of the heart. Yet, in those few minutes with him, he was the perfect gentleman. It was one date, and I could use the flowers for my project. Seeing more pros than cons, I accepted.
We decided to go on the date after I picked up the flowers for my assignment. I was still feeling petty towards Alyssa so I bought just enough for myself. If Alyssa wanted to party, she could, but she could find her own flowers.
I won’t bore you with the details. It was a date. A lovely one at that.
I found myself meeting with Jasper more often. He was intelligent and had unexpected academic interests considering his occupation. He was fascinating. He listened to me and valued my opinions. I was enthralled.
I…I didn’t realize just how much time I spent with him. It was months before I realized that Jasper was the only person I interacted with anymore, not that I interacted with a lot of people in the first place. I stopped attending my study group sessions because the wasps would follow me if I was alone. Everywhere I went, I could hear the buzzing. They chased me everywhere. The only time I felt safe was with Jasper. It was like his presence scared them off, no buzzing at all. When I asked him about it, he looked at me like I was speaking another language. I stopped going places without him, and when he wasn’t available, I ran to my classes and stopped talking to people.
I asked if he wanted to join the study group once. He frowned and kissed my forehead, lips cold and fluttery as they met skin. “Is my company not enough for you, my queen?” he whispered, distressed. I tried to reassure him that it wasn’t the case at all, but he kept asking. I didn’t go to the meeting that day, or the next. The guilt ate at me, but I couldn’t decipher what for.
I would visit his shop often, but I hated walking inside. The wasps were a constant presence and I never felt safe passing by them. I swore some landed on me—I could feel the beat of their wings against my neck—but when I tried to brush them off, there was nothing there. I talked to Jasper about it, but he waved off my concerns. He told me that they were important for the shop and refused to even consider hiring an exterminator to move them away.
I didn’t like to make Jasper angry. The one time I did, I had tried to reschedule one of our dates because my midterm was coming up. He was furious. He argued that if I loved him, then I would go and study after. As we argued, I heard the loud buzzing from outside. It grew worse as the argument continued, with the wasps flying into the window. I was terrified to walk outside. He refused to chase them away until I stopped arguing. I failed that exam.
Alyssa broke our silence over it, demanding to know what was wrong given the emphasis I placed on academics. It wasn’t even an unreasonable request! But I was terrified that she would berate me for seeing Jasper, so we argued viciously. I left the dorm that night, angry and afraid. Without realizing it, I walked all the way to Jasper’s flat and knocked on the door. He opened it with a bright smile and passionately embraced me, almost humming. Despite its beauty, the humming sounded so much like the wasps I felt sick.
The next morning, before I left, he handed me a bouquet. Orange lilies, geraniums, and yellow carnations. “An apology gift,” he explained. He wanted to apologize for the rift between Alyssa and I, hoping that the flowers would help “take care of our issues.” I didn’t have any fight in me left to deny him, even if I thought the idea was ridiculous. She accepted them, but so much had happened between us, we were walking on eggshells.
A day or so after I gave her the bouquet, Alyssa had coughing fits. She would pound at her chest trying to force something out, but it was dry. She had no allergies or fever. Just the cough. She tried to hide it, but I lived with her, and I knew it was getting worse as the week went on. She grew lethargic and wheezed for breath.
I told her to go to the doctor about it, and she did. But they couldn’t find anything wrong with her. Dread filled my lungs.
Jasper grew irritated every time I mentioned Alyssa. Snide remarks became full blown disdain and hatred. I stopped talking about her, but Jasper couldn’t stop me from worrying.
A week later, I walked back to the dorm. Classes had concluded for the day and I was too exhausted to deal with Jasper. As I approached, a sickly-sweet floral smell cloyed in the air. I coughed at the smell and tried to open the door, but the faint sound of static had me hesitate.
We don’t own a television or a white noise machine. I told myself that I was imagining things. The floral scent must be from some perfume that Alyssa spilt, the static fan. I told myself this before finally opening the door.
Wasps.
Wasps were everywhere.
They swarmed our dorm like a cloud of locusts in the countryside. The kitchenette, our beds, the bathrooms. They crawled and flew anywhere there was an available space. Several flew past my ears, barely grazing my skin. The air was foul with rot and flowers.
I tried to run back out and get help, but tripped over myself and crashed down hard on the ground. As I scrambled to get up, I was met face to face with the dead, wasp-ridden face of Alyssa. I screamed.
Every orifice of her body was covered with flowers from the bouquet, her eyes, her nose, her ears and mouth. Holes littered her lifeless body as the wasps nested inside. I could see them, writhing under her skin. Dried blood coated her face and the floor.
I couldn’t tell if the crawling sensations were from my own horror or the wasps. I ran out of the room, blinding hitting walls as I scrambled for an exit. The wasps followed, filling the hallways with their angry song.
The buzzing of wings echoed into my being as I ran. I could hear their advancement with every step I took. When I reached the doors, I thought slamming it behind me would be enough to slow the swarm down. I didn’t anticipate the door to stick open.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t run forever. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I bolted across the courtyard, frantically searching for help. I saw a fountain in the distance and felt relief. If I submerged myself, surely, they would lose interest and leave.
I changed course. I was starting to lose my breath and I could practically feel the wasps brush against my skin. Using the last of my strength, I jumped; sinking down and pressing against the bottom hoping that it would be enough to deter them from pursuing me. But my lungs were abused from the chase. When I emerged for breath, I didn’t expect them to be hovering in the air, waiting for me.
The swarm descended, tangling into my hair and landing on my face. I could feel them enter as I screamed, and all I knew was pain.
I didn’t expect to wake up. But instead of death greeting me when I opened my eyes, it was Jasper. As I came to, he told me that someone had called an ambulance for me and taken me to the A&E. When he asked me if the bouquet took care of my issue, I knew that this was all his fault. I screamed, furiously demanding answers. Alyssa had her issues, but she was my friend.
He smiled at me. I wish he didn’t. Crawling out of his mouth was a wasp. Then came another.
and another.
and another.
I was frozen as the room was again filled with wasps. The buzzing nearly encompassed all sound. I pushed myself back to the wall as he stepped closer to me. “You’re my queen,” he purred. “You're beautiful, smart, and so, so strong. I couldn’t ask for anyone better to expand the hive. The wasps and I love you, Harper. Don’t you love us back?”
This was a stupid thing to do, but I was so angry and terrified. I told him to piss off, I wanted no part of his hive. As he advanced towards me, I thought I signed my death warrant. The buzzing crescendoed as he cupped my face. I flinched at the feeling of movement under his skin.
“It's alright, my queen,” he whispered, petting my hair. “I’ll wait.”
I gagged as he walked out of the room, taking the wasps with him. When a nurse came over to check on me moments later, I couldn’t explain why I was so terrified.
The moment I was discharged, I dropped out. I moved back to London with a relative, sold what possessions I had, and got a job at Tesco’s. I can barely pay my rent but at least I’m away from him and his damned flowers.
I still feel them on me, no matter how hard I scrub or how hot my water is. I shaved my head because I kept seeing wings and legs in the tangles. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t stand the smell of anything floral and just the sight of a carnation is enough to make me sick. The buzzing never stops.
No one would tell me what happened to Alyssa’s body. There were no news reports about death by flower strangulation, so I assume that someone swept it under the rug.
I never want to see another flower again.