The dark visitor - murder at 155

I took a life the other day.

Man, I hate to confess my crimes, but my heroism protecting my property deserves it.

I killed a cockroach...



...but I so much wish it was a very large beetle. When you see a roach at home it means that you are no longer allowed to sleep well, when you see a beetle it means it got in from the garden below and that's the end of the story.

So there I am, happy, getting home on Friday after a bad day and a bad week at work. I turn around to turn the lights on and then, just as Doctor Who says, i see it back in the corner of my eye. A dark and ugly shadow, crossing the living room on its way to... please please please don't get in the bedroom or I'll never be able to sleep again... the bathroom.

Good, bathroom is safe, I have to clean it tomorrow anyway so bathroom is the least bad place were the monster could hide.

I followed it with my eyes, disgusted, terrified and... rebellious. How dare you get in to my sanctuary? all the living forms that enter here enter by invitation, you have not been invited in! oh how I hope you were a vampire roach, that way you would have stayed out waiting patiently for me to invite you in. Vampire roaches are totally acceptable, common ones are a curse.

Me being the tiny thingy on the ground and the roach the big white one.

If you ask me, it was as large as my fist. So, how should I get rid of it?

I need a murder weapon.

Why don't we have a 2nd amendment (for roaches only, please do not misunderstand me)??? hummm. All the stuff I keep at home is so pretty I cannot risk to squeeze the freaking gigantic bug with any of them. So sandals are sacrificed. I take one off. I feel empowered with my sandal in my hand, and then, then I realise I have to walk in the bathroom sandal in hand and one bare foot, and I chicken.

Deep breath, deep breath, and there I go, I walk in, look around and find the intruder under the door, moving its antennae. I want to think the bug felt its end was near... and hell it was. Hope it suffered for tresspassing private property.

First strike with the sandal, the bug escapes, I scream. I keep screaming. Strike two, bug lying helpless on its back, tiny legs moving. I scream again, close my eyes and... strike three. The bug is out. A huge mass of legs and white soft stuff all over the floor.

Yes, I am still screaming by then.

I got rid of the corpse as discreetly as I could manage given the huge amounts of organic juices oozing from the dead bug.

Dirty work done, I call mom.

I have not been able to look under my bed yet for fear of finding another uninvited guest.

Such is Life.