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This happened when I was about 13 years old, so like 7th grade. It was a really hot summer's day, and let me tell you, I'm always deathly afraid of going outside in the summer. Not because of the heat, or sunburn, but because of bees. I shudder just thinking about them. Anyway, I was home alone with my dog, when he started prancing around to go outside. So, I hooked him on his leash and stood outside with him while he wandered around. Everything was going fine, until I hear the telltale buzzing of a nearby insect.
I prayed it was a fly, but it was (of course) a bee... which landed on my shirt. I immediately froze, remembering my mom always telling me to not anger them if I didn't want to get stung. Well, I stood there, barely breathing, waiting for it to fly away... only for it to begin climbing up towards my face. I was terrified at this point, and stared horrified down at it as it got closer. It wasn't until it was almost to my neckline that I ripped the shirt off, screaming, and ran inside, dropping the leash and leaving the shirt.
After about 5 minutes, I remembered my dog was outside. So, I took a deep breath of courage and ran back outside, grabbing him, and launching us both back through the door and shutting it tightly. I gave it another 15 minutes or so after that for me to go back outside and check the shirt. I gently lifted it up, an arm's length away from my face, when I heard a faint buzzing. I screamed, and ran back inside, armed myself with a broom, and then proceeded to beat the shirt with a broom, still screaming. (Keep in mind, I was in a sports bra and shorts the entire process).
Then, I shook out the shirt, grabbed the broom, and went back inside. I refused to leave the house for the next two days.
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