The Fly War

• Noelle Bosshard , Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2011

The war had begun once again, it couldn’t have been avoided, it happens every year. The second I caught sight or heard them buzzing I bolted straight for the can. They’d come earlier this year. They snickered and taunted me with every move they made. So what if they could fly? They were puny and unprepared for my arsenal of weapons. They made the first attack, swooping at my head calling out war cries in the form of buzzes. Knocking their furry black bodies against my cotton clothes, I swung my arms around in the air – trying to fend them off – like I was trying out for an acting role as King-Kong. My primary weapon took action; I held the Mortein can above my head and pressed down on its button to fire toxic chemicals at the enemy. The flies inhaled it and grew weak; their wings stopped beating and they dropped to the hard ground. They panted, coughed and wheezed, the chemicals were slowly taking effect. The flies tried to power up their fragile wings again but their efforts failed as they turned themselves upside-down. They spun around hopelessly in circles, limbs violently flailing in the air in an attempt to get upright again. I cackled at their endeavours. The ones who were still on their feet resorted to running towards crevices in-between the furniture. I wouldn’t let them back out so easily; I opened my closet door and pulled out my secondary weapon: the shoe. I crushed the cowards with a quick smack, one by one I finished them all off. The bigger flies – the ‘buses’ of the fly world – had done their job: to infiltrate my home and drop off their underlings. The miniature white worms wriggled their way out of the ‘bus’ and weaved their way into my carpet. I sprayed the chemicals all over them until a white residue was left. I stomped on them; I knew the shoe wouldn’t have much effect on them while they were hiding in the carpet. The worms laughed and insulted my efforts as they continued to wriggle away. I paused for a second; rethinking my strategy as I took a look at the battlefield around me. Cans of unopened Mortein were sprawled around my room, in case of emergencies. Fallen soldiers lay curled up, stiffening, some twitched. They couldn’t win, I pitied the fact that this legion had taken on a suicidal mission, every soldier that had previously intruded into my home had also suffered the same fate.

I hated to just leave them; it was such an inhumane thing to do. Even they should have a proper burial. Within ten seconds I sprinted to the grave that was prepared, and back to my room. The scent of the Mortein cloaking the fresh air revolted me, but after using it every year I would’ve thought that I’d have learnt to live with it. I grabbed each and every one of the flies with a delicate white cloth. With another sheet I tried to pick as many of the underlings out of the carpet and keep them in the white paper. Once I was done I sprayed another wave of toxic chemicals over the worms, just to be sure I’d successfully poisoned them. I’d made the mistake of not finishing them off before and had to deal with them when they had grown to the size of their elders. Of course, they were still worms at the time but most had hidden in any crack they could find, just waiting to grow wings and wreak havoc. The fools who hadn’t, decided to make my job easy and wait on the carpet in plain sight.

I carried the deceased insects to their coffin, with a quick goodbye, (good riddance) I dropped them into the pool of water and flushed them away into a land of eternal dreams. I knew their allies would hear about this defeat, it was only a matter of time before they too would come to test my defences. I didn’t fear; I was a lot more prepared now than ever before. Until the colder months came back around it was war!