Violated. That pretty much sums up how I feel right now. That, and completely grossed out.
This morning I woke up, got dressed, and as I was ready to go down and get breakfast, I saw something strange out of the corner of my eye. In the corner by my desk, nestled against my suitcase, was a gigantic black spider. Or was it?
Measuring about 5 inches in diameter with legs the size of my fingers, whatever this critter was, it was ugly. It was just big enough and grotesque enough to be a fake---a practical joke of some sort. But it was almost too real looking (even from a few feet away) to have been part of a four-year old girl’s collection of toys that she brought with her from the States. Half of me was 100% sure it was a joke, while the other half was definitely sure that I wasn’t so sure at all. I stood frozen in my tracks for a few minutes, waiting to see if it moved. Nothing. I flipped the light switch, nothing. I contemplated getting my camera---but feared that flash might make the plastic creature come to life.
At that point, I figured I would knock on Melanie and Sany’s bedroom door and confront them about their funny, practical joke. By the looks on their faces, I quickly realized there would be no laugh-out-loud moment. Between Sany’s dart for the nearest broom, and Melanie’s panicked remarks to keep the kids away, I stood still and felt my stomach churn.
I was all ears outside the door, as Sany yelled out that that the creature was GONE. That was possibly the worst thing I could have heard at that point. Gone where? Crawled inside my suitcase? Climbed up on my bed and under my sheets? I yelled at him to find it anyways. Before Sany could emerge with the dead body, I found myself running down the stairs to avoid having to see the warped, deranged carcass that had been cohabitating with me for who knows how long.
Now I’d have no problem if I saw the beast outside in the woods, hiding in the trees, or nestled in the grass. But in my clean, organized little room? My sanctuary, if you will? Where I eat, sleep, and work late into the night? I don’t like feeling that I’m not really alone. And I especially don’t like thinking about the multiple partners it must have had, how it procreated, and laid its many eggs in the small corners and shadows of my room. I have goosebumps just thinking of it.
But perhaps most of all, I ask myself why was I so scared of it? I had always thought I was pretty brave, until I found myself shrieking like a little girl this morning. But have you ever heard the saying you need to be scared to be brave? (That makes me feel better).
Had I not looked down at that moment, I might have never seen it. How many grotesque little villains might we happen to miss every day cause we’re not looking? If you’re waiting, at this point, for some brilliant take-home message, there really is none. Aside from this. I read somewhere (probably the latest Ensign) that there are fake spiders and there are real spiders in our lives. Sometimes we’re scared (for no reason) of the fake ones, and it causes us to live in fear. Other times the spiders are real (VERY REAL), but we might not call out for the help that we need.
This morning I woke up, got dressed, and as I was ready to go down and get breakfast, I saw something strange out of the corner of my eye. In the corner by my desk, nestled against my suitcase, was a gigantic black spider. Or was it?
Measuring about 5 inches in diameter with legs the size of my fingers, whatever this critter was, it was ugly. It was just big enough and grotesque enough to be a fake---a practical joke of some sort. But it was almost too real looking (even from a few feet away) to have been part of a four-year old girl’s collection of toys that she brought with her from the States. Half of me was 100% sure it was a joke, while the other half was definitely sure that I wasn’t so sure at all. I stood frozen in my tracks for a few minutes, waiting to see if it moved. Nothing. I flipped the light switch, nothing. I contemplated getting my camera---but feared that flash might make the plastic creature come to life.
At that point, I figured I would knock on Melanie and Sany’s bedroom door and confront them about their funny, practical joke. By the looks on their faces, I quickly realized there would be no laugh-out-loud moment. Between Sany’s dart for the nearest broom, and Melanie’s panicked remarks to keep the kids away, I stood still and felt my stomach churn.
I was all ears outside the door, as Sany yelled out that that the creature was GONE. That was possibly the worst thing I could have heard at that point. Gone where? Crawled inside my suitcase? Climbed up on my bed and under my sheets? I yelled at him to find it anyways. Before Sany could emerge with the dead body, I found myself running down the stairs to avoid having to see the warped, deranged carcass that had been cohabitating with me for who knows how long.
Now I’d have no problem if I saw the beast outside in the woods, hiding in the trees, or nestled in the grass. But in my clean, organized little room? My sanctuary, if you will? Where I eat, sleep, and work late into the night? I don’t like feeling that I’m not really alone. And I especially don’t like thinking about the multiple partners it must have had, how it procreated, and laid its many eggs in the small corners and shadows of my room. I have goosebumps just thinking of it.
But perhaps most of all, I ask myself why was I so scared of it? I had always thought I was pretty brave, until I found myself shrieking like a little girl this morning. But have you ever heard the saying you need to be scared to be brave? (That makes me feel better).
Had I not looked down at that moment, I might have never seen it. How many grotesque little villains might we happen to miss every day cause we’re not looking? If you’re waiting, at this point, for some brilliant take-home message, there really is none. Aside from this. I read somewhere (probably the latest Ensign) that there are fake spiders and there are real spiders in our lives. Sometimes we’re scared (for no reason) of the fake ones, and it causes us to live in fear. Other times the spiders are real (VERY REAL), but we might not call out for the help that we need.
Today, it was real. I called out for help. I got it. And boy am I glad I did. But I think I will still live in fear, at least for a little while--until the upcoming hatching season is over.
4 comments:
That is SICK. I'm freaking out just sitting here. Maybe I shouldn't have read this post during breakfast! :)
wait wait wait! Did they find it??? Is it still there?
Sickest story ever, Sarah.
Before you come home, shake out EVERY article of clothing, shoe, and miscellaneous when you pack your suitcase....just like we did with the "hobos" in Idaho. Did you think of me and my love (not) of spiders when you saw this one? Very sick.
Sick! I would be completely creeped out as well. Checking the covers before getting into bed. I hope that was the first and last close encounter you have with a spider. Ewww!
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