There are bugs in the room. Flying bugs. Hear a buzz buzz around your ear at 3 AM in the morning? Bolt up. Quick, turn on the light. Find a tissue. Scan the room for the enemy. There! The black dot high up in the wall. Approach carefully as not to surprise the target.
BAM, you thump with your fist and the tissue. Relief, you think, and you let your wrist falls. Look at the tissue paper. No blood? No black carcass?
The bug, this everlasting creature, flies in front of you, slowly out of your sight.
You sit on your bed, vigilant. Eyes scanning the room, perking your head up when you see a black dot on the wall. Feel your mind going crazy. It doesn’t matter what is happening in 6 hours. Meetings don’t matter. People don’t matter. Neighbors don’t matter. The landlord doesn’t matter. You want to squash that enemy into pulp.
So for the next five hours, you’re there on the bed, waiting. Waiting until the enemy emerges again. Light fills the room and your eyes burn.
Where is that enemy? Where is that bug?
You think all of this as the red welts on your fingers, the soles of your feet, your left thigh, your right calf, your stomach itch. Your hands touch each moment, rubs…then scratches.
Murder? Oh yes, murder.
You think about tearing apart your room, next. A scream curdles from deep within.