She never thought writing a story can be this tough. She sat there her head resting wearily on her palm as the blank paper stared back at her.
She will have to finish it by tomorrow morning; the last date for submission was the day after.
Her brain refused to make a single move; suddenly a firefly flew inside and sat down on her paper.
“Write about me!” it demanded in a barely audible voice. “How we have fought the changes of climate on earth, now pollution created by human beings to survive; to spread our light.”
“No! Write about me!” A shrill voice rang right beside her left ear.
It was a mosquito.
“Write how we mutate ourselves to fool all types of mosquito repellants to earn our daily bread.” It said. “How hard we work to fill up our small bellies, all the dangers that we face!”
“I can’t write about you!” she protested. “Well I can write a poem about fireflies but a story is so much longer!” she added with despair.
“Why can’t you write about me?” the mosquito demanded.
“Oh you guys are carrier of all sorts of diseases. There are so many bad diseases that you carry! If I write praises for you I will land in big trouble!” she said.
“Are you insulting us?” it started to bloat with anger, soon it became as big as a bumble bee but it did not stopped there.
Its eyes were burning like red embers as it pointed its sting to attack her.
She grabbed the paper to hit it but its sting pierced past the paper as if it was a piece of flimsy cheese.
“Hey!” someone ruffled her hair and she opened her eyes. It was mom. “Go to bed sweetie. Your neck will hurt if you sleep like this.”