I’m going to hate starting out with this, but I have to.
I’m quite ballsy about most things, but this miserable fucker usually leaves me paralysed with fear. I’m not even exaggerating. Just a few months ago, I considered spending the night at the dining table because there was a cockroach blocking my path to the stairs.
This phobia of mine has been around forever. I lived in a tropical jungle as a child, and with my memory and the size of these cunts,(trust me, ALL insects are bigger in rainforests) I didn’t have a chance. You know what’s worse? Malaysia has like, I dunno, EVERY FUCKING SPECIES of roach out there.
Right, we’ve established that cockroaches + me = years of expensive therapy or truckloads of insecticide.
My hostel room is not immaculate, but at least we’re pretty roach-free. I can handle an average of five or six tiny-ass cockroaches a year. I should also add that that handful (Ugh, I can’t believe I just said ‘handful’ about those disgusting eff-ers) is my limit. After I kill those few, I’m done. I run out of reserves for cockroach-induced adrenaline release.
Imagine the cardiac arrest I had when I entered my room after two months to find cockroaches everywhere. On the walls, on the ceiling, in my kettle, in my stationery drawer…all over the godforsaken place. I went dizzy for a while and nearly passed out. You can’t blame me; I could HEAR them walk!!
I was a lone ranger here because my roommates weren’t back yet. I had to kill the bulk of them myself. I left my bags and went out to get as many chemicals possible to kill these revolting buggers. A thousand rubles poorer and armed with every aerosol can that had a picture of a dead roach, I started my work.
It was awful. Most of them didn’t die instantly, they fell off walls and ceilings, and crawled all over the floor. The ones in hiding came out to suffer. I didn’t appreciate them making their presence known; it only showed me that there were hundreds of them living with me.
Three weeks have passed and most of them are gone, but I still kill a few everyday. Thankfully, they’re not as big as the ones back in Malaysia. The ones here are about an inch in length at their largest. They still creep the hell out of me, but at least now I’m not so hesitant about smashing the pulp out of them.