Prompt
I’ve lived in this house for nearly two years now, and it’s just occurred to
me that I’ve never seen a single insect or spider in here.
Botner
At least I don’t think I have. They’re so tiny I’d probably just miss them.
There’s also a statue of a cat on the coffee table. Can I tell you how many
cats I’ve seen in my life? Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit, but
that’s the limit of my memory right now. Mostly because I’m pretty sure
there’s not going to be any more cat statues in my life, and because I don’t
want to have the fate of my life decided by some damn invisible spider, so
whatever happens, happens, I guess. Mother is still asleep in the next room,
as she is every morning. I wish I could get away with having her sneak into
my room to sleep on my bed with me, but the neighbors think my mom is the
meanest mom in the world, so she’s locked in the living room with the remote
control and her knitting needles to prove that point. She says I’m not
allowed to be out in the house until I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep, but
the neighbors say I’ve never gotten a good night’s sleep anyway, so it
doesn’t matter. I don’t...
Conclusion
...think it should matter much how much I sleep. I get good grades in
school, and I have a lot of friends. Everyone just needs to let me be me,
and figure things out on my own. When I grow up, I think I want to be an
entomologist. That’s someone who studies insects, in case you don’t know. I
learned that when I was in first grade, but not from my first grade teacher,
but by myself. I like to learn things on my own, and don’t pay much
attention to what the teacher is saying. I don’t understand why school has
to be like that, why I can’t decide what I learn, and what I ignore. Sure,
everybody needs to know some math, and they need to know how to speak, but
beyond that, who cares? I don’t care about social studies, so I shouldn’t
have to worry about it. Just like that, my best friend hates bugs, he’s
afraid of them, he shouldn’t have to study them like me. I’m growing bored
in my room, so I decide to go out in search of these mysteriously absent
bugs. I know my family takes care to keep them out, but they can only do so
much. I should be able to find at least one. I get down on all fours, and
start crawling around the house. My little sister asks me what I’m doing,
but doesn’t care about the answer, and my dad doesn’t care enough to even
question it. It’s not going well, so I run to the kitchen, and grab the
magnifying glass from the junk drawer. I go into every room, but find
nothing. I check my own room last. No, nothing in here either. Nothing on
the floors, nothing on the walls, nothing on my dresser. Nothing on my desk,
nothing in the trash can, nothing on my big brown bed. Wait. Wait, there is
something on my bed. There are a lot of somethings. Extremely short tiny
things are all over my bed. Hold on. Bugs. Bed. Bed. Bugs. Bed bugs. Oh no.
Mother’s not gonna be happy now.
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