The Beginning of the Battle

3:40 AM

Imagine a world where insects wild power against giants, Carly can’t sleep, and the people next door are DEFINITELY smoking weed. Such is the backdrop for the beginning of an epic battle.

The night began like any other. Carly (who will henceforth refer to herself in the third person for the purposes of thematic construction) came back from a night of work, chortled with her dear friend Rebekah over a mature box of Lucky Charms, and did the dishes while dancing to the ditties of Postmodern Jukebox. It was a normal night.

Maybe it was the caffeine ever so carelessly drenched the after-dinner hours. Maybe it was a newfound ambition discovered at 11:30 at night, but Carly was not tired. Instead of crawling safely into her bed, Carly turned on New Girl for the ten MILLIONTH time while trying on all her clothes and putting on makeup the world will never see her in.

As the saying goes, “time flies when you’re having fun”. Such was the case for Carly this evening, and soon 2 AM rolled around. For reasons that aired more on the side of responsibility than rest, Carly began getting ready for bed.

Face washed, teeth brushed, pajama shorts on. If she had only gone to sleep right then. If only she decided to fill up her water glass in the bathroom. She could have slept peacefully through the night.

But such was not the case on this night.

She saw it’s legs first - it’s eight, spindly legs that seemed to stretch on for miles. The spider was so big it had visible eyes. It was, no exaggeration, THE MOST TERRIFYING THING EVER.

Carly crept upstairs, threw on her plaid rain boots, and returned to the kitchen. And thus the battle began.

Western standoff music blared in the background. In a strategic move, Carly balled up an empty Price Chopper bag and threw it at the spider. It moved barely an inch to the side - it didn’t even have to move all it’s legs. If only she could get it to get off the umbrella where it sat: she didn’t want to risk trying to stomp on it, breaking the umbrella, and giving the spider the ability to get to her. She tried to nudge the umbrella slightly, but the spider quickly ran back to it’s safe zone under the radiator: unreachable.

Maybe violence wasn’t the best option.

Carly opened the door to give the spider the opportunity: freedom. But the spider was too proud. It would not surrender. She shut the door to then deter other bugs from joining the spider’s army.

BUT THEN WHO SHOULD APPEAR BUT THE FUCKING SPIDER!

Carly climbed up onto a chair, but the spider continued feeling around it’s spindly legs and running towards her in small bursts. It was on the attack. Carly ran towards the doorway on the other side of the room. The spider ran back under the radiator and Carly back on a chair. The spider was no where to be seen, but it was there.

In a blazing burst of bravery, Carly ran up the stairs, locked the door, put a blanket at the bottom of the door to keep the bug from breaking into the room, and ran into bed. Safety. The battle may not be won, but the night is done.

We both now reside in hiding. We shall see what the morrow brings.

Good Night and Good Morning

Carly