It was a beautiful school morning. It was the third day of school and the sun was shining brightly. While my brothers and I were walking down my driveway to the bus stop, we saw something white and circular in the mulch. We were curious as to what it was. I thought maybe it was a home to some animal. Maybe it was a ripped paper napkin. Maybe it was just a piece of bird poop. I really wanted to know what it was. So I said to my little brother, “Come on, Thomas, poke it. Go see what it is.”

“No. Why don’t you do it?” Thomas replied.

“I’ll pay you a dollar,” said my other brother, Timmy. So, Thomas, who would never turn down the offer for money, walked over to the white circle and poked it with a stick he found by the bushes and shrubs. The first time he poked it nothing happens. However, the second time Thomas poked it something flew right out of it. All I could see was yellow and black flying around.

“BEES!” Thomas yelled as he was trying to make an escape for the inside of our house. Timmy ran across to the neighbor’s yard. I darted across my yard. I guess bees are smart because since Thomas hit their nest, all of the bees went after him. Not one bee came to me or my other brother, Timmy. Thomas was ran and swiped frantically at the bees as he tried to get away. He isn’t a fast runner so the bees caught him. Out of about seven bees, two stung him. One stung him on the arm and the other one stung him on the ear. He was crying, and I was frightened because he started to puff up in the places he was stung. Even his neck swelled up. Timmy and I ran inside to get our mom. When we came back outside, his arm and ear were huge. So my mom rushed Thomas to the Emergency Room. I started feeling guilty and scared.

The doctor ran some tests on him. Later the doctor came out and said to my mom, “There is good news and bad news. The good news is that we treated him and he is responding well to the treatment. The bad news is that he is highly allergic to bees. I will prescribe an epi-pen. He will have to carry it around at all times. Just inject this into him whenever he gets stung.” I saw a tear roll down my mom’s face. But I didn’t think it was a big deal, until the doctor said next time the severity of the sting could be worse. It could affect his breathing. That’s when my heart dropped and didn’t know what to say.

All I can think of is how will he cope with this? What if the epi-pen doesn’t work? So many questions, but very little answers. This was going to be life changing for Thomas and me because I learned a valuable lesson. At first it may seem fun and funny but it can end up hurting someone. I don’t think he understood how careful he had to be now. But he is only ten and is still his happy, jubilant self.