At work today, I accidentally kicked something that was on the floor. It was made of cardboard folded in a box-like shape except the ends were open and it had small holes through it, something like a window to a house. I didn’t read what was printed on it coz it looked like a product display which was probably unwanted and chucked onto the floor.
I picked it up meaning to throw it away already when I caught sight of something inside the so-called product display. It was dark brown in color, but looked almost black in the light-deprived interior of the box. And there was not only one of it. There were three, possibly four…COCKROACHES!!! Immediately I took a deep breath. Put it back! Put it back! Oh my god!!!
That thing was no product display! It was a roach trap! Damn! I lay it back down on the very spot I picked it up and looked around to check if anyone saw my stupid act. Phew. Had those little creepy roaches move, even just a tad, I would have created the next best work symphony. I would scream and my colleagues and the customers would too, thinking that I’ve met their deepest darkest fear.
I hate cockroaches. Ok fine, I’m afraid of them. I remember once, when I was small, I was rummaging through a box of toys when I was frightened by a cockroach in the box. I started hitting it repeatedly with whatever I was holding in my hand, screaming all the way, and only to realize that it was already dead. If it was not it won’t be sitting there comfortably for me to hit it. But I tried to convince myself that it was me who killed it and even told my mom how smart I was. Kids. I tried to cheat myself into believing that I’ve overcome my fear. Bull crap. Cow dung. I will always be afraid of cockroaches. They chase after you. They know your weakness. And when they spread their wings and fly, I tell you, you’ll wish you were never born into this world where cockroaches roam the lands.