It Buzzes

Content warning: sibling death, corpse/decomposition imagery, blood and implied violence, grief, psychological distress, and disturbing sensory descriptions.

The room buzzes. You can hear it from down the hall. I am not an animal, but the sound makes me want to rip the wings from their bodies, slowly. The smell, thick and pungent, calls to them. An aura that whispers to that desperate, primitive part of my brain to run. But I can’t run. I’m not an animal. The door seems far away, the hinges solid and unmoving, but eventually I manage to close the door. The smell evaporates, leaving only the cool air of the untouched hallway. But I know they’re still buzzing… and buzzing… and buzzing.

“Baby, I’m home.”

I look up from where I’d been staring into the void. I’m in the kitchen, the lights are off. How long have I been standing here? Long enough that my skin is indented with ugly red lines from where my arms were pressed against the countertop. Jared flicks on the hallway light switch, looking up from his phone to see me standing in the kitchen… in the dimness. The sun has begun to set, casting everything in shadows. Shadows that whisper, shadows that bite.

“There you are. Miss me?” His smile is wide, sincere. The kind where his dimple shows and his eyes crinkle. I want to rip them both out of their sockets. 

I refocus on his face, “How was the trip?”

His arms wrap around my torso, and his lips meet mine. A fleeting, burning touch. My soul recoils. “The excavation is on track. I know, miracle. But it meant the boss let us come home early. How’s Carla?”

“Carla?”

“Isn’t that your sister’s car outside? I thought she only intended to stay the weekend.”

When I don’t answer, he pulls back, examining my face, tracing the bags under my eyes. Cover it, my thoughts scream. Stuff a bag over your head, your mouth, your eyes. Then he can’t look into your soul.

“Kate? Is everything alright?”

“Carla’s sleeping.” My eyes drift toward the stairs. “She’s… tired. She doesn’t want to be bothered.”

“So… I’m guessing she didn’t apologize for using your card. You fight about it?”

My eyes snap to him, my jaw clenching. “No. We didn’t fight. We’ve never fought. Shut up. It’s none of your business.”

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t back down. Lies spilling from his throat. “Come on babe. Tell me you at least confronted her about it? You need to stop letting your sister walk all over you. I get it, family is family. But I thought we agreed this little spoiled brat act of hers needed to stop. If you want, I’ll go up and talk to—”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” My fists pound into the counter. A mug falls and splinters with a crash, scattering white, needle-sharp blades across the tile. “She doesn’t want to talk to you so, shut. Up.”

The room is quiet, quiet enough that I can hear the buzzing. I need to go. Go make sure she’s alright. But no. Not now… not while he’s looking at me like that. Like i’ve stopped making sense. He’s the one not making sense. Finally, he clears his throat and reaches for the broom in the corner.

“Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to cross the line.”

I watch the shattered ceramic disappear under his scrutiny. He doesn’t look at me. Why won’t he look at me? The buzzing is loud now. Deafening. Can’t he hear it?

“Does Carla want to join us for dinner?” he asks, setting the broom aside.

“…I’ll ask.”

As Jared slips into the bedroom, I turn my eyes to the stairs. My legs move weightlessly, my mind has entered the room long before my body can follow. Still, I knock on the door, three quiet taps. Too quiet to disturb her sleep.

“Carla?”

The buzzing answers. It always does. My hands shake as I reach for the door handle. 

The door opens, the stench follows. The buzzing dives at me, into my eyes, into my ears wiggling it’s way into my body. This air is warm, moist and putrid. I couldn’t let her get cold. I fight the urge to slam the door. I’m not an animal. I’m not an animal. I’m not an animal.

“Do you want to join us for dinner, Carla?” I whisper. The buzzing responds, mocking me. My eyes burn. Why won’t she talk to me? I just wanted to talk… I just… needed to talk to my sister.

“Okay,” I whisper to the room. “I get it. You're tired. You want to rest. I’ll come back later.”

I close the door quietly, gently. Careful not to wake her. She’ll sleep, and when she wakes up… Maybe she’ll forgive me.

As dinner simmers on the range, Jared comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach.

“Carla didn’t want to join us,” I mutter.

“So you did fight.”

My hands pause, hovering above the heat of the stove.

Shouting. A slammed door. She wouldn’t understand. I had to make her understand. Something sits in my palms. It was about the money. It’s always about money. I’d been so proud. Proud to snarl, and bark at the baby bird in the room. The weight leaves my hand and collides with her skull. A rabbit… it was just a rabbit. I’m not an animal. I’m not an animal.

“We didn’t fight.” The words feel like relief. Because it's true. It’s always been true. It must be true. “Carla’s just… tired.”

He makes a thoughtful noise, the kind that urges me to flatten his skull. Just so he’ll stop. Stop thinking. Stop caring. “You look tired too, babe. You sure you don’t want to go to bed early?”

“…I’ll sleep later.”

As dinner passes, I tap my finger against the table. 

The room sings it’s song. Bzz, bzz, bzz. Buzzing. It won’t stop. I should go. Away. Maybe Carla's awake now. I should make sure.

“Kate.”

I look up. “What?”

Jared is watching me, concern written in the furrow of his brow. “You haven’t touched your dinner.”

I look down at the plate of mold and rot. Gut rebelling at the thought. Everything in this house has gone to rot. Why would I ever tough the carcasses meant for buzzards? I’m not an animal.

“I ate earlier.”

“Alright… here. I’ll clear your plate.”

I hate him. I hate his questions. I hate that he’s still working. He keeps lying. I can’t stand the lies anymore. It’s buzzing. I need to see if Carla's awake.

I stand. “I’m going to bed.”

“Uh… Kate?”

I turn, my body locking at the sight of what’s clutched between his fingers. Revulsion bubbling up my throat. He has it. That thing. I want to scream. The vile thing, the wretched thing. Soaked, caked in blood. It needed to die. It wanted to die.

“What’s Carla’s plush rabbit doing in the trash? And why is it…” he gestures to the mangled body, the white cotton guts spilling out onto the floor. “Cut up?” 

I turn away. Slamming the door between me and the abomination. Vile thing. Wretched thing. It needed to die. It wanted to die. For what it did.

I turn my back to the door when he enters. He doesn’t speak when he slides under the sheets next to me. He takes a breath like he wants to speak. I tense, waiting for the blow. The lies. But he just, sighs and turns off the lamp. 

He sleeps soundly, perfectly. Can’t he hear it? It’s buzzing. I want it to stop. I need it to stop. But she’s sleeping. She needs to sleep. Check on her later, in the morning. When she’ll rise, and smile, and tell me she didn’t mean it. Yes. That’s what will happen. I turn onto my side, forcing my eyelids shut. 

I don’t remember getting up, but the door is open and I’m sitting on the floor. Glass sinks into my palms. The pieces scattered across the carpet. I barely feel the sting. The chair in the corner is overturned. I haven’t bothered picking it up. I should… when Carla wakes up, she’ll need somewhere to sit. But the room is buzzing. And I can’t stop it. Wind blows through the windows, doing nothing but push the pungent air deeper into my nostrils. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. I swat around my head desperately, to keep them out of my eyes. My mouth. They need to die.

I stop resisting. I’m not an animal. The buzzing takes me. Warm. Moist. Endless. I watch her sleep. Tucked into the sheets like a child. She needed to sleep. I tucked her in. She’ll wake up in the morning and then it’ll stop buzzing.

Ring. Ring. Ring ring. Ring.

I struggle to open my eyes, reaching for my phone. Picking it up, squinting at the blinding screen. Wait… no. My phone isn’t ringing. I look across the bed. Kate's phone is on the bed, but its screen is black. Where’s the ringing coming from? I sit up, walking over to her nightstand. Opening the drawer. The ringing phone stares at me innocently. “Mom” on the screen. I pick it up.

“Hello?” I croak, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Carla? Is that you?”

“Uh…” I pull the phone away from my face and turn the lights on. It… is Carla's. I recognize the AC/DC logo. “Sorry, Mrs. Evans. It’s Jared.”

There’s an intense, awkward silence. “Jared. What are you doing with Carla's phone?”

I have no good answer for that. What am I doing with Carla’s phone? “It was in our bedroom. Carla must have dropped it.”

“She’s still at your house?”

“Yes? I think she’s up in the guest room.”

“Where’s Kate?”

I turn to look at the empty covers… My girlfriend is not in bed. “I’m not sure. Why?”

“Well Carla was supposed to come up north Friday. She said she was going to be a little late. She and Kate had… some sort of argument and it gave her a headache. But that was days ago. I’ve tried calling her, tried calling Kate. No answer. For days, Jared. I was this close from calling the cops.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Evans. Maybe Carla just got sidetracked again?”

“I know my own daughter, Jared.”

“Look. How about I go find Kate and have her call you back?”

“Don’t you dare hang up this phone, young man. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve heard both of their voices.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll go find them.” I sigh, stumbling out of the bedroom. The living room is quiet and empty. So is the kitchen. Maybe she’s up with Carla in the guest room. They obviously have a lot to talk about.

I don’t often go upstairs. We only ever use it when Carla needs a place to crash. Which is more often now that the woman has quit another well-paying job. A stench hits me. Sharp and old. Like moldy meatloaf but worse. Not normal. I gag. 

“What the…”

The guest bedroom is open. I can see Kate. She’s sitting on the ground, eyes trained on the bed. She’s… talking, I think. To Carla, maybe? I push the door open all the way.

“Kate?”

“I’m not an animal… I’m not an animal. I’m not an animal.” Her voice sounds hoarse. But something about what she’s saying just feels wrong. The wave of nausea that hits me when I enter knocks me back a step. I turn towards the bed.

The phone drops from my hand.

Flies dart around a corpse. Red hair flows over green, decaying skin. I don’t know what to do. Do I run? Do I throw Kate over my shoulder and then run? Do I call the police? My body reminds me I’ve stopped breathing. I gasp—

“K-Kate.”

I stumble over to her, helping her up off the ground. Blood drips from her palm. I cradle it, staring at the shard of glass embedded there. The wound is small but likely painful. I turn back to the nightmare in front of me. Why is there a corpse in the bed? Who—

The answer becomes obvious as soon as I think about it.

“C-Carla.” The breath rushes out of me. I step back. It’s Carla. How… what. She’s dead, but… Kate said.

“Kate, what… What happened? What happened to Carla?”

“Carla’s fine.” The words are not what anyone ever wants to hear. Ever. “She’s just tired… she’s sleeping.”

I stare at her. She’s… joking. Please be joking. “Kate…”

“She’s fine. I’m not an animal.”

Mrs. Evans is yelling at me through the phone. Demanding to know what’s going on. I pick it up off the ground and disconnect the call. I need time. Time to think. I take a deep breath. Get your head together, man.

“Kate.” I try taking her hands again. When she won’t respond, I shake her. “Kate!”

Her eyes snap to meet mine. Her skin is pale, the bags under them thicker than at dinner. I get in her face. “Carla. Is. Dead.”

I can see the words on her lips, the flash of anger in her eyes. I expect another denial. Instead she simply… crumples. I keep my arms around her waist, holding her up against me. Sobs rack her body, the deep kind. The kind that are one emotion away from screams.

“I’m not an animal. I’m a monster.”

The confession felt like heaven. The relief was so potent I cried until the sirens came. Until Jared wouldn’t look at me anymore. Good… I don’t deserve it. This is the way it’s supposed to be. Things make sense. They have to make sense. I killed my sister… my baby sister. I’m going away now. I’m where I belong. Angels with armored vests ask questions I already know the answer to.

Why did you confess?

Why did you put her back on the bed?

Why… why… why…

I know the answer, I tell them. The room they put me in is small. There’s a lock on the door. I’ll stay here forever. Because I’m a monster. I eat for the first time in days, the rot and filth and mildew gone. Banished, where it belongs. The clock makes its rounds. Once, twice, I stop counting. When the jury comes, I know what the verdict will be.

Because I’m a monster… I’m a monster… I’m a—

“Miss Evans?”

I look up. The light of the room blinds me for a moment now that I’ve finally opened my eyes. All I can see is the looming shadow. The Devil. Death. Finally.

Then my eyes adjust. I see the badge. I see the gun at his hip. He sits down in front of me. There are a few chairs in the room. But I can’t touch them. They're not mine. Monsters don’t get chairs.

“Do you mind taking a seat, young lady?”

I choke back a scream. Young lady. An insult, a mockery. Why won’t they call me what I am?

I pick myself up off the floor and slide into the chair across from him.

“Miss Evans.” He begins. “You’re being released in a couple hours. Your mother is coming to pick you up.”

My head snaps up. The man’s face is calm. He’s serious… he can’t be serious. All I do is stare as panic starts to rise up into my throat.

“W…what?”

His eyes are soft, but there’s a firmness there that makes me recoil. He leans forward, voice low. “You didn’t kill your sister.”

A laugh. A short, pained sound. “Yes. I did. I killed her. You can’t… you have to lock me up, I’m a—”

“We did an autopsy.”

The image of doctors cutting into my sister’s flesh shuts me up. The officer continues.

“She died of an aneurysm. Completely natural. Suddenly. But natural.”

No… no… no. 

“No.” I stand up. He doesn’t move. I pace. “N-no, we fought. I beat her. I k—”

“You struck her with a stuffed animal. Right?”

I stare at him, pausing my pacing. “…That’s right.”

“You two had an argument. You hit her with a toy. And you walked out. That’s what you told my partner?”

“Yes. I kill—”

“Then when you came back, she was dead. Correct?”

“…That’s correct.”

This… demon of an officer hasn’t moved. Hasn’t twitched. “You didn’t kill your sister, Miss Evans. The aneurysm killed her.”

I sink back into the seat. The ground under my feet is swelling like waves. The officer’s hand snaps out, gripping my shoulder. 

“Easy, miss. Don’t pass out on me now.”

“But… we fought,” I whisper. “I… I left. She… she didn’t come down to dinner.” The memories are flooding me, clashing with the ones already in my head. “She was there, on the floor. The room was a mess. It wasn’t that way when I left. But it… must have been. Why else would I?”

I shake my head. “She was… warm,” I whisper. I can still feel the way her body moved in my arms, limp and heavy, like a sleeping infant. “Her eyes were open… I closed them… she n-needed sleep. Then she would wake up… but she wasn’t sleeping. She was dead. I kill— I’m a m—” I put a hand to my head. Pain. In my chest. In my head. I’d been so certain. Of everything. My eyes open. I'm not sure what I’m looking for in his face. But I only find truth there, and it hurts. 

“Aneurysm?” I ask. I have to.

The officer nods slowly. “Yes, Miss Evans. Your sister died from an aneurysm.”

A sob comes out of my throat. “But I thought—”

“I know.”

I watch him leave. Aneurysm. Innocent. Release. They don’t fit in my head the way they're supposed to. But if I’m human… Why can I still hear the buzzing?