Chrysalis

A cold wind blew. It cut through the empty street, and through the lone figure who staggered through the chill, a package tucked under one arm. The small person pulled a tattered coat tighter around their slight frame as they looked around, seeking something that they soon found.

A familiar sight, a familiar door, though it had looked different in years passed.

Back then, a family had lived here, some of the time. The Father, frequently away, the Mother distant and cold, like a winter wind. Less like a home, more of a hotel, with its comings and goings. It lacked the warmth of welcome, the comfort one sensed from a door with someone waiting behind it. There was almost never anyone behind it.

The boy though, he was always there, even when the others weren't.

It wasn't so bad, he often thought to himself. People led busy lives, there often wasn't enough energy left to tend to those around them. Many lived in worse conditions, much worse. Besides, what was the use in complaining?

Especially when you've got a job to do.

He walked over to the house and leaned into the gate, forcing it to swing open with a creak. Sounded like it was getting rusty. Likely it was. He'd tend to it tomorrow maybe, or the day after. He needed a good sleep before anything else.

Well, he needed a meal, but he tried not to think about that.

A key was removed from a pocket and with a metallic clack it turned in the lock. The door opened to a dark corridor. As he always did, the boy leaned forward to check for any mail. It had been some time since he'd received a letter from his parents. Perhaps it was a little ungrateful of him, but he didn't even need a letter at this point, a little money would be more than welcome.

It had been some time since he'd had that, too.

But there was nothing, as ever lately. With a quiet shrug, the boy stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him, ensuring the lock was turned afterwards. He wouldn't make that mistake again. His legs still ached when it was cold. And it was cold now.

"Holy moly," he winced, "that stings."

Half hopeful, half resigned, he tried to flick the lights on, only to have his fears confirmed when his surroundings remained dark. At least something had been learned. The number of 'final warnings' that one received before the power was shut off, was six.

A good, solid number. He couldn't begrudge them, they'd given all the notice that could be reasonably expected. The lack of cooling in the fridge wouldn't be a problem, since there was nothing in it, but the heating would be an issue.

The winters were cold, that was one thing, but his sisters would really struggle without any warmth.

Speaking of.

'Hup!'

He hefted the package once again and began the climb up the stairs. Each step was more of a struggle than usual, and it became harder to ignore the gnawing hollow in his stomach. He powered through.

He wouldn't be caught napping though! Not yet!

When he reached the top step, the boy pumped his fist in triumph. Then he staggered as the strength left his knees. But he righted himself! Then pumped his fist again, but more restrained the second time around.

It might have been easier to house the girls on the ground floor. However, only in this room, upstairs, was there a window that got the right light. The price was worth paying, he decided.

Still firmly clutching the package, a bundle of newspaper wrapped around something squishy and wet, he made his way to the room at the end of the hall. Unfortunately he didn't account for the darkness and stubbed his foot on the side table.

"Dammit!" he yelped.

A few hops later he entered the room and a tired, but bright smile spread across his face. On the table, the girls, his sisters, were hard at work. The scouts and foragers were busy, despite the dropping temperature, they were looking for food, eager to provide for the queen and support the family.

He hobbled over to the table and hastily unwrapped the package. A steak, the last food he could afford, even then he'd needed a discount from Mr Balney, the local butcher. It wasn't much, but the protein would keep the family going for a while yet.

Holding the meat in one hand, he carefully lowered it down into the open topped foraging area. He lay it down in a corner where none of his sisters would be crushed and watched with delight as they quickly swarmed to the area.

Antennae tippy tapped against the meat, scouts testing and assessing before they attacked with hunger. Mandibles pinched away tiny segments of meat that the workers then devoured. With food safely stored in their abdomen, the scouts then turned and rushed back to the nest.

He watched as they sprinted back on six legs, to be welcomed by the other members of the family with a hero's welcome. The workers swarmed around the scent the scout had released and then began to follow the trail back to the food.

In moments, a column of workers had formed, rushing along the line of scent to the food. Soon, the meat was covered in ants, using formic acid to break down the steak to make it easier for them to ingest.

Each member of the family was part of a unit. They supported each other, worked together, were always there when they were needed.

"Must be nice," Anthony smiled.

He watched with satisfaction as the meal was devoured, transported back inside the nest where the food would be dispersed amongst the larvae and provided to the queen. The young would grow big and strong, enter their cocoons and then emerge as new workers, ready to support the family and ensure the next generation would be born.

Night began to draw near as the hours passed, and the boy grew weary. He lay his head down on the desk and continued to watch the activities of his family.

He was so hungry, he felt so weak. But that was fine.

He just needed a little rest, tomorrow he'd get something to eat. The family had been fed, that was the most important thing.

As time ticked on, he became lulled by the silent bustle of the ants, until eventually, finally, his eyes drifted shut, and sleep claimed him.