We all have to face our fears eventually. Some day there will be no one to help you, no one to hear you scream. You're just going to have to survive on your own.
In this post, I discussed my three month long battle against one of the most disgusting and formidable creatures I have ever encountered: a huge, impossibly speedy, leg-flailing beast known as a centipede. It stalked me for 12 weeks, jumping out from nowhere and scaring me out of my wits. I hunted it, watched for it, and even tried to poison it, but even if I had found it, I probably would have been too scared to kill it, which is why my roommate did, finally. She's my hero.
Some time after this ordeal, I got to thinking. What if someday I was home alone and encountered one of these horrific creatures on my own? I would probably keel over and die. I hoped that would never happen.
I went to live my sister after I finished school, and she neglected to tell me something very important that I discovered one dark night a few days ago. I came home from working on a film shoot (I'll probably talk about that in another post) late at night after a Sonic run, and Katie wasn't home yet. So I pulled off my shoes and socks and headed into the kitchen to get some water.
Just as I was reaching for the fridge door, what did I see? I saw a huge, black, many-legged miscreant speeding across the floor. Before I could scream, throw up, or even move, it had passed my feet by just inches, its nasty legs flailing.
IT ALMOST RAN ACROSS MY BARE FEET.
I was in too much shock to scream. The last two times I've seen a centipede, I've made one my friends kill it. But now I was the only one here. I was alone.
My sister had neglected to tell me that she'd seen this beast weeks ago, and it had been in the house ever since!
How could I just go back into the living room, knowing that awful thing was skulking around my house? The answer is that I couldn't. There was no way in God's green earth that this apartment was big enough for me and that THING.
I ran to put on some shoes and came cautiously back into the kitchen. It was hesitating halfway across the floor, so I threw a rug at it, jumping atop it and hoping to crush it underneath.
No such luck! The centipede sped from beneath the rug and headed for the closet. Good gosh NO! NOT THE CLOSET! There were so many bags and boxes and clothes in there that I'd NEVER find it! I grabbed an empty box of oatmeal and, hands shaking, approached the evil creature.
Instead of going in the closet, it sped under a shelving unit that held the toaster and some sodas. I knew it was there. I knew it was still. I knew it was right next to the entrance to the closet. I knew this was my last chance.
I grabbed the shelving unit and violently pulled it away from the wall. There it was! In a panic, the centipede spun in a circle and tried to take off toward the closet. With a shriek of horror, I plunged the empty box onto the writhing miscreant and saw its legs explode in every direction, still twitching with latent life.
IT WAS DEAD! I had hunted and killed my very first centipede!
I felt like there were things crawling all over me. I ran to the living room, jumping and twitching spastically, while throwing off my shoes and jacket and checking myself for other crawling specimens.
I left the decimated carcass for my sister to dispose of, but not before spraying the house with Raid.
A PSA to all centipedes within a ten mile radius: "You have been weighed, and you have been measured, and you have been found wanting. I have a special set of skills... and a weapon called never-ending-supply-of-oatmeal boxes. Your days are numbered, and this town ain't big enough for the both of us."
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