The Monster(s) Under My Bed

Anyone who has been reading this blog knows about my ongoing battle with the accursed centipedes invading the basement of my apartment (where my room just so happens to be located). After last week's mini-vacuum and ensuing toilet debacle, I went out and purchased my own hand-held vac and painstakingly tried to rid my room of all unwanted trespassers (and in the process, located a long-lost earring! hello again, friend!). And though the can says I only need to use it every six weeks, I again sprayed that hard-core bug spray all over the place. Just to be safe.

And silly me, I thought I was in the clear. The weather finally began easing down out of the 90s, and as it dropped my excitement heightened with the knowledge that the first bug-killing frost could not be too far away. True, more than a week passed in which I saw neither hide nor hair of any centipedes. I did see a tiny spider one day, but smushed him with a kleenex and thought no more of it. Until last night.

It was just before midnight. I was lying in bed, talking to Alex on the phone, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted something dash from the foot of my bed, up the wall, and continue in the direction of the bedroom door. With no explanation to Alex other than a Xena Warrior Princess-esque war cry as I threw down the phone, I grabbed the nearest shoe and sprinted across the room before the centipede could escape through the doorjamb into the safety of the dark hallway. As many times as I tried to crush him with my shoe as he darted towards the door, the centipede was quicker than I was, and he breached my spray-covered door before I could deliver a deadly blow.

I stood there for a minute, breathing heavily, shoe still poised to strike, staring at the place where the centipede had disappeared. It was immediately evident to me that this bug spray was far to weak for these genetically-advanced superinsects. Slowly I turned back towards my bed, where I heard Alex's confused voice calling my name through the phone. After explaining the situation and assuring him that everything was alright, we said goodnight and hung up. It was a while before I turned off the light, though, and I actually debated for a few minutes whether or not it would be possible for me to sleep with the lights on until our lease was up in eleven months (centipedes are afraid of light, you see...like owls and bats and vampires, they are creatures of the night). But I shook my head--that was ridiculous. I could not sacrifice my shut-eye for these beasts. That would be admitting defeat.

If only these monsters under my bed were like those in Monsters, Inc. I could totally handle that.But no, my centipede-induced screams and howls of rage are not fueling the power-supply of the city of Monstropolis. No, THESE are the despicable monsters that I have to deal with under my bed.They are gross and not cute and not brightly-colored and they don't give out hugs and save adorable little girls named Boo who wander into and ultimately save the city and teach everyone the value of laughter.

So centipedes, if you want to live under my bed, FINE, but only if we can reach an agreement that you will never, ever come out. You can create your own little Fraggle Rock under there and I will leave you in peace, as long as you don't touch my box of winter sweaters and LEAVE ME THE EFF ALONE. No, wait. You know what? No. I'm not going to allow you to live under there, because I know it's only a matter of time before you see a delicious-looking spider or toe or neck or SOUL and you come TAKE IT FROM ME. So no, you cannot live in my apartment at all. I mean, LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE REDUCED ME TO, you crazy devil-bugs! Is this really what you WANT?? I don't want to live in fear. Mark my words, I will do EVERYTHING in my power to get rid of you, and if that STILL doesn't work, don't doubt that I will call the maintenance man and have you EXTERMINATED!!! And if THAT STILL doesn't work, I will get a cat. Just like the mummy from the similarly-titled movie with Brendan Fraser, I know that cats are your mortal enemies. While I'm not a huge cat fan, I'm sure they can be cute and cuddly and DEADLY FOR YOU. These are fightin' words, centipedes, don't you DARE cross my path again!