The Hunt
I Hate Roaches
There are very few things that truly frighten me, and I’m not known as one who panics at the mere sight of a mouse, snake or spider. But yesterday, a cockroach managed to bypass all the roach motels and find his way to my bathroom.
Now, I am terrified of roaches. They are such disgusting creatures. I’ve been told, though, that it is ridiculous to be afraid of roaches, simply because, according to my brother, I am more than five thousand times larger than they are. But as anyone with a phobia will tell you, size is not an issue. And to be honest, to think there could, quite possibly, be over five thousand roaches that can occupy the same amount of space in the universe as I do, actually makes it worse.
The ones that occasionally make there way into my house, however, are not your every day roaches. They are Georgia Pine Roaches. If you have never seen a Pine Roach before, be glad. These sap-suckers are as long as the palm of my hand, with their antenna they’re twice that, and have a wing span as long as my two hands together. I can’t even get close enough to look at it, let alone try and smack it with a shoe. Besides that, when you do squish them, they make this horrible crunch sound, like someone stepping on a peanut hull. It makes me cringe just thinking about it.
Still, under normal circumstances, even this is not a problem. If I see a cockroach, I simply send a shock wave through the neighborhood by screaming, “Kill it! Kill It!! KILL IT!!!” and either my brother or father take on the role of assassin for me. Yesterday evening, however, I was alone.
It was about 9:30 or 10:00 in the evening as I made my way to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink to remove my contacts. As I closed the case, I thought I saw something from the corner of my eye, and I know I heard a scratching sound from behind me. As quick as a blink, I through on my glasses and spun around, but I saw nothing. Turning back around, I brushed my teeth and just as I was putting my toothbrush away, I heard something again.
This time though, it was not the same disgusting scratching sound I had heard earlier. It was a sound that more closely resembled an apache helicopter. I was just barely able to duck out of the way in time to keep it from hitting me. The thing was so huge it could have easily carried a couple of missiles. The roach landed, skidding across the counter-top, and then turned to look back at me.
Paralyzed, I couldn’t even scream. It had nearly taken my head off! There wasn’t any point in screaming anyway. No one would come to kill this monster for me. I decided, therefore, that I would have to be the assassin. I was defiantly not going to sleep as long as he was prowling around the house.
I cautiously knelt down and opened the cabinet under the sink. From there, I pulled out the can of bug spray, my yellow cleaning gloves, and the splash guard mask I used while cleaning the bathtub and toilet. Slowly, I donned my armament, drew off my left orange flip-flop, and uncapped my weapon of choice.
As I aimed the bug spray, the roach jumped again, flying past my right shoulder, around the door and into the hallway. “Oh no you didn’t!” I yelled as I took off down the hall after him.
He scurried along the baseboards, and we rounded the corner into the living room. The roach ran behind the entertainment center for cover. “I’ve got you now!” I said with a menacing laugh. I sprayed behind and along the walls and baseboards on either side of the unit. I then sat on the sofa, turned on the TV and waited for him to emerge again.
Twenty minuets went by, and the roach decided it was time for round two. He emerged from the left side of the entertainment center. Having been drenched with poison, he was by then moving much slower.
As he was no longer a threat, I walked right up and swatted him off the wall with the flip-flop I was still holding. He fell on his back onto the floor. I again removed the cap from the bug spray and in one swift motion, doused him again with poison, set the cap from the can of bug spray over him and balance the can on top of the cap, just in case he decided to try and run again.
From under the cap came the crazed scratching sound of a dying cockroach using every ounce of life he had left, trying to escape.
I slept peacefully last night knowing that the monster was not going to bother me any more. This morning when I woke, I removed the prison walls from around the dead roach, and with a satisfied smile thought, “Stacie 1, Cockroach 0.”
Now, I am terrified of roaches. They are such disgusting creatures. I’ve been told, though, that it is ridiculous to be afraid of roaches, simply because, according to my brother, I am more than five thousand times larger than they are. But as anyone with a phobia will tell you, size is not an issue. And to be honest, to think there could, quite possibly, be over five thousand roaches that can occupy the same amount of space in the universe as I do, actually makes it worse.
The ones that occasionally make there way into my house, however, are not your every day roaches. They are Georgia Pine Roaches. If you have never seen a Pine Roach before, be glad. These sap-suckers are as long as the palm of my hand, with their antenna they’re twice that, and have a wing span as long as my two hands together. I can’t even get close enough to look at it, let alone try and smack it with a shoe. Besides that, when you do squish them, they make this horrible crunch sound, like someone stepping on a peanut hull. It makes me cringe just thinking about it.
Still, under normal circumstances, even this is not a problem. If I see a cockroach, I simply send a shock wave through the neighborhood by screaming, “Kill it! Kill It!! KILL IT!!!” and either my brother or father take on the role of assassin for me. Yesterday evening, however, I was alone.
It was about 9:30 or 10:00 in the evening as I made my way to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink to remove my contacts. As I closed the case, I thought I saw something from the corner of my eye, and I know I heard a scratching sound from behind me. As quick as a blink, I through on my glasses and spun around, but I saw nothing. Turning back around, I brushed my teeth and just as I was putting my toothbrush away, I heard something again.
This time though, it was not the same disgusting scratching sound I had heard earlier. It was a sound that more closely resembled an apache helicopter. I was just barely able to duck out of the way in time to keep it from hitting me. The thing was so huge it could have easily carried a couple of missiles. The roach landed, skidding across the counter-top, and then turned to look back at me.
Paralyzed, I couldn’t even scream. It had nearly taken my head off! There wasn’t any point in screaming anyway. No one would come to kill this monster for me. I decided, therefore, that I would have to be the assassin. I was defiantly not going to sleep as long as he was prowling around the house.
I cautiously knelt down and opened the cabinet under the sink. From there, I pulled out the can of bug spray, my yellow cleaning gloves, and the splash guard mask I used while cleaning the bathtub and toilet. Slowly, I donned my armament, drew off my left orange flip-flop, and uncapped my weapon of choice.
As I aimed the bug spray, the roach jumped again, flying past my right shoulder, around the door and into the hallway. “Oh no you didn’t!” I yelled as I took off down the hall after him.
He scurried along the baseboards, and we rounded the corner into the living room. The roach ran behind the entertainment center for cover. “I’ve got you now!” I said with a menacing laugh. I sprayed behind and along the walls and baseboards on either side of the unit. I then sat on the sofa, turned on the TV and waited for him to emerge again.
Twenty minuets went by, and the roach decided it was time for round two. He emerged from the left side of the entertainment center. Having been drenched with poison, he was by then moving much slower.
As he was no longer a threat, I walked right up and swatted him off the wall with the flip-flop I was still holding. He fell on his back onto the floor. I again removed the cap from the bug spray and in one swift motion, doused him again with poison, set the cap from the can of bug spray over him and balance the can on top of the cap, just in case he decided to try and run again.
From under the cap came the crazed scratching sound of a dying cockroach using every ounce of life he had left, trying to escape.
I slept peacefully last night knowing that the monster was not going to bother me any more. This morning when I woke, I removed the prison walls from around the dead roach, and with a satisfied smile thought, “Stacie 1, Cockroach 0.”
RSS Feed