Monday, February 27, 2012

The Creepy Spider: A True Story by Hogan Stevens

If you know me very well, you know that I am terrified of spiders.
When I was little, we lived in a big house out in the country that was frequently invaded by the most dreaded spider of all. I'm talking about the Grandaddy Long-Legs, that terror inspiring creature with the long, spindly legs that surely make it the most horrific spider known to man. At least, it was the most scariest spider the six-year-old me knew.
I remember how I would make sure to have one of my parents or my sister check the bathroom for spiders every time before I even thought about going in, because I had had far too many incidents where a spider presented itself to me after I shut the door. It wasn't unusual for a shrill scream to break the peace of our household on account of me encountering one of those eight-legged devils.
Well, unfortunately for me (and my family), this fear has stayed with me over the years. I am not sure what it is exactly, but something about the way spiders look and move just creeps me out something terrible. And yes, I hate to admit it, but I still shriek when I see one and I have to yell for the nearest person to come kill whatever monster I encounter. Usually, they're hardly the size of the eraser on a pencil, but even the smallest of spiders cannot escape my notice.
Thankfully, where we live now is nearly devoid of any arachnid life. We've been here about four years now, and I have only had a handful of terrifying experiences regarding spiders (snakes, on the other hand...that's another story).
But then there was the day my mother was out of town, my father was at work, and I was alone in the house.
The day started like any other. It was in the summer, so I had been spending my liesure time either reading or writing, and when it came around noontime I figured I had best get something to eat. I sidled into the kitchen, idly wondering if we had any good soup left, when I saw IT.
A spider, black and furry, was on the blinds of the window above the kitchen sink. I froze in midstep, my eyes widening as I watched it scuttle about, seemingly unaware of my silent horror. After a moment, I managed to shake myself from my shock and I hurried over to the cabinet, where I quickly procured the first weapons I could find: A plastic cup and a paper towel.
I then proceeded to stand in the middle of the kitchen and watch in terror as the spider crawled from the window onto the countertop.
This went on for a good five minutes; I stood stock still, holding my flimsy weapons with a death grip, and the spider, unfazed, continued to navigate its way around the kitchen countertop.
Finally, I could stand it no longer. I called my dad.
"Dad! There's a spider in the kitchen and I have no idea what to do!"
He must be used to these sort of things by now. Calmly, he instructed me to find either a newspaper of some sort or a broom--whatever I could get my hands on--and smack the living daylights out of it. Sound advice.
I quickly spotted a magazine on top of a nearby table, so I snatched it up and rolled it into a tube. After assuring my dad I would win this battle or die trying, I hung up the phone and once again focused on the furry offender, which was still in sight.
I steadied myself. I can do this, I thought. It's just a spider, Hogan. It's probably more scared of you than you are of it.
As I took a deep breath and clutched the magazine tighter, I highly doubted it.
Gathering my courage, I went into Fearless Magazine Wielder Mode. The spider seemed to finally take notice of my existence as I started running after it and screeching unintellibly when I got too close to it. And like all crafty, creepy spiders it was good at hiding from my magazine of doom. It was quite adept at scurrying beneath things just as I would sweep my weapon over the counter. In my quest to kill the beast, I ended up accidentally upending the toothpick holder (sending toothpicks flying everywhere), knocking over the soap dispenser at the sink, and whacking a bag of noodles off the counter.
Swiftly running out of places to hide, the black creature ended up scooting underneath my mother's knife block. Having gained some courage during my little smacking frenzy, I pushed the block to the side---and was a little surprised to see my opponent curled into a fetal position. Obviously, it had come to realize that its end was near.
Holding the now hopelessly crumpled magazine in my left hand, I deftly smacked the spider, retrieved the trash can, and triumphantly swept it off the counter. I had done it. I, a girl that has been scared of spiders all her life, managed to get rid of one all by myself.
Needless to say, the magazine also had to be tossed. It was too scarred from the battle to survive another. And I think I would still rather not have to face any more creepy spiders by myself. One is enough.
Did you know that Hogan is very accident prone?!
Did you know that Lauren loves making cards?!

Photograph property of Lilies Among Thorns Magazine. Photograph taken by Lauren Jaji.

1 comment:

  1. Two of the most important parts of making concrete kitchen countertops is the polishing and then the sealer that is put on. Concrete on its own is an exceptionally porous material and would honestly be a health hazard -- I can't even pronounce half the bacteria that would be found within the first few weeks alone.