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Scribite -- Write, you!

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You Kill It! [Jun. 9th, 2006|07:39 pm]
Scribite -- Write, you!


Angie stared at the large black bug, its six legs waving around frantically, tap-tapping against the glass. "I can't believe you, Jules."

"What?" Julia called out from the bathroom, where she was applying her makeup.

"The bug is still here. It's been practically a week!" Angie walked back into the bathroom, looking at Julia in the mirror. "It's animal cruelty, or something."

"I'm not gonna let it go. It'll get all its little bug friends and come back and have little bug babies underneath my bed," said Julia. She put down her eyeliner and turned to face Angie. "I'm really sorry, I know it's gross. Can you kill it for me?"

"No, you're the one that found it. You kill it!"

"I killed the last bug, it's your turn. You kill it," said Julia.

"We're taking turns now?" Angie shook her head. "No, I'm not killing it. It'll squish."

"I know," said Julia, bringing her shoulders up near her ears and covering her face with her hands. "I can't do it! I can't!"

"I can't either!" said Angie.

Julia walked back into the kitchen, and looked at the insect trapped in the upside-down glass. She put her index finger into her mouth and bit on the fingernail. "Maybe Jeremy will kill it for us?" she suggested hopefully.

"I'm not calling him," said Angie, putting her hands on her hips. "He still hasn't stopped talking about the spider we made him kill. We'd never live it down."

They stared at each other. They were at an impasse -- neither willing to kill the bug, or to let it go, or to call somebody else to kill it. The moved the glass into a remote corner and stopped talking about it. It continued to live for days, becoming more and more frantic in its attempts to escape. Angie's stomach turned whenever she looked at it. Julia simply refused to look.

At long last it perished, withered and curled up like a knot of black string. Even then, Julia could not bring herself to pick up the glass and vacuum up the body. Angie refused to, considering it Julia's moral responsibility to take care of it, since she had found it and subjected it to such a slow death in the first place. So it remained there, an point of tension between the two roommates, a monument to their stubbornness, an unlikely glass coffin.

And then one morning, at the end of the semester, both glass and bug were gone. Each roommate assumed the either had relented, but neither cared enough to comment on it. They were both busy, with school and work and boyfriends, and had no time to ponder on their victim's fate.

That night they'd wish they'd had, though, as thousands of chitinous, glistening insects poured in through the hole in the screen, coming to exact revenge.

[User Picture]From: skycornerless
2006-06-10 10:15 pm (UTC)
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[User Picture]From: sahuarita
2006-06-10 10:59 pm (UTC)
Indeed. I never had problems killing bugs before, but suddenly because I'm living alone I'm TERRIFIED of them.

I wrote this to talk myself into killing a large black cockroachy bug. Because I was totally just going to let it die under the glass.
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