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I slammed the paper towel against the wall, praying, hoping, that I killed the
spider. The little bastard with a body the size of a pin and its legs stretched out to
what seemed like ten times its size. I wailed, flailed my arms and legs when I saw
it crawling on the couch earlier as I was lying down. It had to have had crawled
over me to get there. I felt that all so familiar chill run down my spine when I
replayed that moment in my mind of that disgusting thing next to me. Its legs
twitching and moving to pull itself forward. With the paper towel now firmly on
the wall, I peeled it back to see the spider’s smashed body. A mangled and
unrecognizable mess on the paper with a spot soaked with a yellowish liquid. My
throat gurgled as I gagged at the sight. I quickly folded the paper in half and threw
it in the bin.
I’d been living in this bachelor for only a couple of months, and there were
always crickets, spiders the size of my god damn hand, and once I think I saw a
millipede, but I can’t be sure because I never saw it again. And I am not about to
tear this apartment apart to find it. I moved my bed once to clean, and I saw the
husk of a spider. That means there’s a bigger spider somewhere in this apartment
that I couldn’t find, and I knew one day I would be in bed, ready to fall asleep, and
I’d see it on the ceiling above me. A gurgling sound emanated from my throat as I
gagged at the thought.
It’s not like I could have found a better place. The prices for apartments
were ridiculous in Fredericton. Every damn one-bedroom apartment I found was
seven hundred to eight hundred dollars, sometimes more, and that didn’t even
include utilities. Even the bachelor apartments were the same price. It boggled the
mind because, obviously, If I was searching for a bachelor, it was because I
couldn’t afford a one-bedroom. No person was going for a bachelors because
they’re fine with a shoebox. But apparently, landlords in all of their eternal wisdom
believed that to be the case. So, when I found this place at only four hundred and
seventy-five dollars a month, utilities not included, of course, I thought it was a
steal. Especially when the walkthrough went off without a problem. But I soon
found out that it was worth every single penny and because I work retail, have a
student loan to pay off, and my parents wouldn’t stop suggesting that I move in to
be with them, to be closer, and find a nice man in our small little town, I was stuck.
Stuck in an insect-infested apartment, to which the landlord said, when I brought it
to her attention, she said, “I never saw a bug in there, so there shouldn’t be any.”
I wanted to tell her how about you live in there for a week and see how it
feels. But I kept my mouth shut, biting my tongue, so I didn’t say anything I would
regret. Now, I am just counting down the months until I get to leave. It was slow-
moving as I would find a new insect every day, usually right next to the toilet in
the morning. My groggy and dazed state of mind, eyes barely open, was not ready
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when I saw a spider on the bowl for the first time. That was when my killing spree
began.
After throwing the paper towel in the bin, I turned away and saw another one
of those damned cellar spiders crawling right next to my bed. I ripped a paper
towel from the roll and crept up to the spider. I kept my eye on it, and I sneaked up
towards it, worried that the slightest movement would scare it off before I could
catch it. I took one step towards it, then two, then three, then four, but It was still
far away. No matter how many steps I took, the spider was still too far to kill it. It
was not only too far away, but it was also getting bigger alongside my bed.
Everything was getting bigger. The wall was getting farther away from me. Soon, I
was looking up at the gargantuan, eight-legged creature on the wall. It moved in
my direction, its fangs rubbing against each other.
An overwhelming panic took over me, and I ran away as there was a fair
distance between us. In my horror, I nearly fell down the large crevice of two
separate boards of a hardwood floor. I looked behind me, and the spider was
crawling down the wall, twitching all the way. With a gulp, I jumped across the
crevice, barely missing my step and sliding down to the depths. The couch was the
nearest hiding spot, but it was so far away. The spider was now on the floor. I
booked it towards the couch. My legs began to ache, my lungs burned, but I had to
make it. It got closer and closer and thought the spider was also.
“Please, please,” I muttered under heavy breath. I reached the couch and hid
behind it. I peered around the corner, and I couldn’t see the spider anyone. With
quivering legs, I dropped to the ground in tears. Cupping my face in my hands, I let
out a silent cry. The world around me was massive. The couch was taller than any
mountain, the baseboard towered over me, and the area behind the couch cast a
dark shadow. I thought I was in a different world, but the stale smell of a basement
told me I was still in my bachelor. Why did I get so small? It didn’t make any
sense. It shouldn’t make sense. But yet, I sobbed at my new world.
I raised my face from my palms and took another look around the couch, and
the spider was gone. I couldn’t see it. Memories of spiders appearing at the most
inopportune times raced through my mind. I snapped my head upwards, fearing
what might be there, but it was just a sliver of light breaking the darkness that the
couch and the wall created. It was the same on my other side. I couldn’t see any
other insect around. For the moment, I felt, at least, a modicum of ease concerning
my predicament. I raised myself, my legs still quivering, my body shaking, but I
knew that I couldn’t stay here. My questions of how I got so small only got one
answer. I turned small from being inside this apartment; maybe I can get back to
my old self if I leave my bachelor. This thought was the only thing that made sense
to me at the moment. With a whimper, I traversed behind the couch, using the
darkness to hide from whatever would want to catch me.
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It was quiet. So quiet that I could hear my heart beating against my chest. I
told myself that I needed to be calm, to be level-headed to get out of this, but my
body knew better. My breathing was out of control. I felt like I was going to pass
out. Holding my hand to my chest, I tried to control my breathing. A deep inhale
and exhale were the only things I focused on. Slowly, my breathing went back to
being normal-esque. Still shallow but not so bad that I feared passing out. I glanced
down this cave of wall and couch to see the light at the other end of the tunnel. I
peered around and above me, and I did not see any other insects to run away from.
Patting myself on the face, I took a deep breath and moved one leg forward
then the other one to make my slow trek through the dark cave. As I went deeper,
the shadows around me grew darker and became more material. It felt like the
darkness was licking at my feet, waiting, praying for me to take one misstep into
its depths. Anything could be hiding in it. Ready to reach out and pull me in, eating
me alive.
“Stop it,” I scowled myself. “stop it, stop it.” I stomped my foot. There was
nothing in the darkness, nothing that would pull me in, and the darkness wasn’t
alive. It’s my mind, I told myself, but I didn’t believe it. I was smaller than a spider
now. Ready to be eaten in the insect world where there wasn’t any mercy.
Why did I move in here? I thought as images of my mother saying I told you
so permeated throughout my mind. My mother would gloat about how right she
was and how I should have listened to her because she knew best. She knew that I
would screw up that I would never amount to my sister, who has a bloody degree
yet works in a soup kitchen.
“You know, your sister was always the perfect one,” Mother said as she
pushed the needle through the white canvas of her new needlepoint project. She
had a glass of red wine standing next to her on the coffee table. The glass was
filled so much that it feared spilling if someone stepped too harshly on the ground.
My mother never got the memo that the glass should only be filled to about a third
of the glass. Also, you’re supposed to take a swig, not down the entire thing. At
that point, my mother should have just taken the bottle to go.
“Where did that come from?” I snapped. “I just don’t want to go into
nursing. That’s your dream job, not mine.”
Pulling the needle from the canvas, my mother sighed. She counted the
stitches long enough I was sure she was ignoring me. She pushed the needle and
thread through the canvas in a delicate motion. My mother was halfway done
creating a salamander with glossy orange circles. She used white threads and a
lighter orange to create the effect. Reaching for the glass, she gave me that look
that stings, that look of absolute disappointment, before she took a large swig of
her wine.
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“Where did that history major get you?” She cut deeply. “You’re out of
school with no job opportunities, and you didn’t get into your master’s program. I
offer you a place to stay, and you throw a fit. Well?” She shouted before she took
another large swig.
I clenched my fists. My nails dug into the soft skin of my hands, dreading
having to explain to my mother that I just need another year to reapply to multiple
schools. She sat there, wine glass in hand, needlepoint canvas on her lap, and a
look on her face that you just wanted to slap.
My mother smacked her lips and repeated, “Well, what are you going to do?
If you aren’t going to live here, where are you going to live now without a
roommate?”
“I found a small bachelor I can afford while I work at the supermarket,” I
said, angrier than I wanted to.
“So, you are going to waste your money even though you can live here for
free? You can save your money, and the cannabis factory is always looking for
workers.”
I couldn’t stay there for more than a couple of nights.
You keep telling me I am worthless, I thought. Keep telling me that I’m
stupid, yet you want me to stay here and live with you? What makes you think
that’s a good idea?
“I already signed the lease,” I told her. “I am going to stay in Fredericton.”
“It’s your life,” She said in a condescending tone. “Do whatever you think
is best.”
It took all my willpower not to shake my head or tell my mother off. If I did
something, my mother would burst into tears and question why I was so rude. Why
I couldn’t think before I spoke. I bit the inside of my lip, standing there for longer
than what would be deemed socially acceptable. I turned around and walked down
the hallway.
“Why can’t you be more like your sister,” I barely heard my mother
whisper.
I continued my walk down the hallway. The lighting was the same as this
cave of couch and wall. The light shone brightly, and I was nearing the end of this
tunnel. Once I did, I would only have a few more feet until I reached the front
door. If I could somehow get underneath the doorway and into the hall. I may turn
back to normal. This apartment. This place had to be the reason why I was no
longer five-four. Once I got out, I knew I would be back to normal. That had to be
it.
The echo of chirping sound emanated from the end of the cave. It grew
louder, and soon I saw the twitching of some kind of twig emerging from the edge
of the couch. Before long, A face of an insect many times my size turned the
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corner. Its antenna twitched as it stared forward with its obsidian eyes. Tendrils,
limbs, or pedipalps glided slowly along its face. Its mandibles moved in unnatural
ways, up, down, left, right, diagonally and in circles as the limb things rubbed
them. It placed one tapered leg in front of the other. The cricket was coming in my
direction. I stiffened, my breath out of control, as my mind raced with what would
happen if it charged in my direction. The cricket moved its antenna, caressing the
ground, the couch’s soft fabric, and the wall’s dilapidated paint job. They twitched
in my direction, and there was a mere second where nothing happened, nor was a
sound made before the cricket charged in my direction. I bolted away again, not
knowing what else to do as tears poured down my face. I heard each step as it drew
closer, but the steps stopped.
I kept running for a bit until I decided to look behind me, and there was
nothing there. I stopped and looked around. My breathing wheezed, and my chest
went up and down as I desperately tried to figure out where it went. There were
only two ways to get here. But could a cricket climb a wall? I had never seen one
but did that mean they couldn’t? I heard the crunch of something large, and before
I could look upward, a leg fell to the ground, feet before me. The shockwave
nearly blew me over. Hesitant and drawing all my strength, I looked upward to
what tossed the leg.
“What the-,” I yelped. The hell was I looking at? My fear blended the
images together in my mind to the point where what I looked at had no discernable
shape but a shape still. It was everywhere, its tendrils gripped the wall, the couch,
and some dangled near the floor. Its jaws gnawed on the cricket, its pincers holding
it in place. It was amorphous. A grotesque, disgusting sight that looked like the
cross between a slug and a spider. Yet, spread across its body was the faces of
hundreds of people. Men and women. Faces screaming in agony. Teeth, or spines,
pulsed all over its body as they moved in and out of the gelatinous being. What I
thought to be blemishes that released pus were mouths salivating. The drool
splattered on the ground in a large splash which caused the floor to be covered in a
thickening slime. A ripping sound echoed through the grand cave of wall and
couch as the thing pulled another leg from the cricket’s body. It threw it to the
ground, nearly missing me. I stood there in abject horror, not knowing what to do.
A sprint towards the exit may mark me as prey but standing beneath it, seeing all
the faces as they cried out for help, told me that looking at this unnameable thing
would only get me to be added to its ranks.
The thing kept chewing and gnawing on the thing that used to be a cricket.
Two of its legs were gone, its abdomen split open, and what looked like jelly was
being slurped up by the thing. Its fangs did this circular dance as it tore deeper into
the cricket. As it did, I tried to take a small step backwards, ever so slightly, not to
catch its attention.
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Another step.
It kept gnawing.
Another step.
It continued to slurp.
Another step.
It tossed its third leg to the ground with its powerful pincers.
I was soon enough away where I could move a bit faster, but I never took
my eye off the unnameable thing. The edge of the tunnel drew closer, and before
long, I was basking in the fluorescent light bulbs which brightened my room.
Finally, the cave was behind me, and I could make my way towards the door. In
fact, it was in my sights. From where I stood, the door was the same distance as the
cave, but I saw nothing in my way this time. It was clear. Not an insect or other
kind of creature stood in my way. I was free.
With a deep breath, I began to make a light sprint for the door. It got closer
and closer, and soon I was only minutes away from it. I felt tears creep down my
face in excitement. This nightmare would soon be over, and I would leave this
place. Maybe find a friend who would let me live with them for a while:
something, anything at all to get out of this god damn bachelor.
I was abruptly stopped by what looked to be a bamboo shaft that stabbed the
ground next to me and on the other side of me. I looked up with my heart
desperately trying to get out of my chest, the hairs on my body stood on end, and
the quivering of my legs so much stronger than before. The spider was above me.
It jigged up and down, side to side. It was nearly a blur as the legs encroached
around me. I was swept off my feet, and the world became a blur. Whether I faced
upward or downward, I didn’t know. I couldn’t know. The world was a blur as my
screams became stifled. My arms and legs were bounded together, and there was
no fighting free. But I tried. I pushed myself against the webbing, but the more I
fought, the tighter the bindings became. My screams no longer came forth, and my
breathing ceased as I felt the sharp pain of being stabbed in my side.