This is a first hand account, detailing the events of a traumatized family, and a maniac insect. Some scenes explained in the following testimonial may be disturbing for a young audience. Readers discretion is advised.
October 4 – 7:00 AM:
We were all lounging around in the living room yesterday, while Grace was busy rummaging through the closet- trying to spot a stray pair of nail clippers. Suddenly a quick shout echoed around the corner, and not a second later, Grace burst out from the hallway.
She stood there in the middle of the living room- paralyzed. “Cockroach!” She yelled, “Huge!”.
Immediately Mom’s feet shot up from the ground and to the couch so fast it sent a sonic boom. “Go kill it!” She yelled at no one in particular. Grace, and I just looked at each other hoping that the other person would volunteer.
Down the hallway a shadow skittered across the tile floor, flashing by so fast, I could just barely make-out the shape. But there was no doubt about it- It was a cockroach, and probably the largest insect I’ve ever seen.
We didn’t necessarily turn the house upside-down looking for it though, but what we did do was wait for Dad to get out of the shower and push the job on him.
I want to clarify that none of us are afraid of bugs– just of terrified of cockroaches. Plus- it probably wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t nearly the size of an Iphone, and had wings.
Dad tried to track it down but couldn’t find it.
“There it is.” Josh stated, pointing up to the kitchen wall. All of us retaliated immediately, peeking around the corner to see if it was still there.
“Pick up a shoe, and go get it Alexander.” My mom said. It was obvious that our fly swatters wouldn’t do a sufficient job, so a shoe was needed.
I shook my head, “I can’t” I said.
“Chris!” My mom yelled, “We found it!” She turned back to me, “If you ever had plans of joining the Marines, you can forget those now.”
That’s when I explain to her, there was a fine line between cockroaches and the Taliban. One was worse.
One had antennas, and could fly.
Grace and I must have looked pretty weird sitting in our car outside, and waiting for the killing to be completed. After ten minutes I creaked open the door.
“Is it done.” Grace and I both asked.
“No.” Dad said, “But you got this.”
He walked out of the house. “See Ya.” He said as he drove off to work, leaving us alone to fend for ourselves.
That night we made extra sure the house was clean- keeping certain that there was no spare soda-can out, and no crumbs of food on the floor.
We went to bed with one eye open, feeling itchy all around, and jumping at every shadow in the bedroom, and every brush of the sheets. I just hoped that it wouldn’t crawl in our bed during our sleep.
I shook my head trying to force the thought from me, but it still stuck nonetheless.
October 5 – 9:00 AM:
Grace ran back back from the closet. “It’s back! It’s back.”
This time, everybody looked me. I let out a sigh- exasperated. “Okay. I’ll do it” I got a sandal and I eased my way around the corner cautious to keep my eyes peeled. I looked up at the open cabinet. “He’s humongous!” I said.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
This was war.
I flung the shoe, straight at the monster and…
Like a ghost he was gone- slipped into a little cranny just unreachable by the shoe. The only thing visible was his long hideous antennas, as if to taunt me, “I’m still alive!”.
We purchased cockroach motels at the store, and placed one in the cabinet. The game was on. Like landmines, we scattered them through the house, waiting in anticipation to finally trap the the beast.
Will Be Updated as Events Progress