“Go away bee”, I yelled as I was going to the airport. As this sudden rage swept through me I pulled out my fishing knife. In a couple of seconds the bee was dead. I so regretted it. The guilt was too much for me. I smelt the blood. It got more and more. I couldn’t bare it. The police arrived. I dropped my heavy luggage. Please help me. They started to take pictures of the diseased lifeless body. I thought it was gross. I stashed the blood stained knife behind my back. Don’t come over here I pray.