Locusts | Teen Ink


June 1, 2009
By Sam Korycki BRONZE, Kalamazoo, Michigan
Sam Korycki BRONZE, Kalamazoo, Michigan
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The rumbling began, sun turning a deep black, and beginning to blot out from the sky. Then everything went black.

My name is Alexander Robinson and I live by myself in the middle of Arizona. I am forty-one and have been in jail twice for animal abuse. The sun was beating down and I was slaughtering bugs. Only to take my anger out and since I cannot abuse animals, I kill bugs. My favorite weapon of choice is “Bug B' Gone”. I upgraded it so that the insects don't die quickly, it makes them die slowly, coughing
up their insides.

I watched as the colony of fire ants limped away in pain and started to cough up yellow liquid that stained the midnight black pavement. I caught several ocean blue dragonflies that sped past and then I pulled off their wings, soon to be fed to another colony of striving carpenter ants. It withered in agonizing pain as the ants quickly covered their next victim. My massacre was over and it was time to eat. I laid down on the aged olive green couch, and waited for my pot roast TV dinner to be ready. The microwave started to beep and I noticed another low-pitched rumble that blended with the continuous beep of the old microwave. I stood up and walked outside. Looking around, I spotted a lone locust sitting on a weed. Just my imagination.

Then I remembered my dinner and scrambled inside to find the kitchen smelling of a musty burnt smell. “Ow!” I hollered as I burned my hand on the melting plastic. Again the hum. “What is that?” I shouted. Slamming the screen door behind me, I marched outside into the sunlight and noticed a slight breeze. Looking out at the horizon, I notice a large, dark cloud forming. Must be locusts. Oh man, I hope I am wrong! It formed quickly and eventually blocked out the sun and then at that moment, I noticed that I was wrong about doubting the locusts. Sprinting inside, I locked the doors and closed the windows. These locusts were big, hungry and there were thousands. The house was going to be hit heavily and was planning to wait them out. First, the humming grew louder and then, the house was hammered and I could hear their tiny jaws eating at the wood and ready to feed on flesh. The first one flew in and landed on my face. Smashing the dark green bug, a splash of green guts went everywhere. Heart beating, I waited. Then everything happened too quickly. Hundreds streamed in through the holes that they chewed through. Jumping from the floor screaming, I ran through the house. Tripping on a pan that I knocked down in the kitchen, I cursed to myself as I noticed that I had twisted my ankle. I screamed as they engulfed me. I could feel their incisors piercing my skin. Landing on my face, one fiercely started to dig into my eye. Blinded, I stood up and ran. This time I crashed through a window. By then, the locust was deep in my eye socket. The pain flooded my body as they came in for the kill.




Sirens blaring, paramedics rushing, my fellow officers and I raced to the scene. “Oh my gosh!” I muttered. Staring up at me with empty sockets was the infamous Alexander Robinson. It wasn't who he was that frightened me, but what lay before me. Shattered glass lay around the body, laying in a pool of thick, red liquid, and the staring empty sockets. Creeping closer, I fell back as a locust flew out of Robinson's gaping mouth.

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