The Eight Legged Beast

June 3, 2017
By Anonymous

I’m Caroline, I’m twelve years old and I’ve never been the type of person who’s able to walk up to a spider on my wall and kill it. Just the thought of an eight legged, black, hairy smudge on my wall makes me shiver. I guess part of that might be due to my previous experiences, finding spiders on my toys or bed. I’ve always wished that I could kill a spider myself rather than running for my parents or brother, to come save the day. There’s been more than one occasion where I’ve tried to kill a spider but failed, spiders have always been a fear of mine just because of their ability to creep around so easily. But today when I saw one on my wall I was prepared to try again.

The spider was on the wall between my window and my bed. Being home alone I had to find a way to kill the spider myself because leaving it until my mom came home just wasn’t an option. Spiders are sneaky which means that it could move before then and I’d have no clue where it was. I quickly ran down the stairs into the garage and grabbed dusty black shoe of my dad's and a old tennis racket from below the stairs. On my way back to my room I stopped in the bathroom and grabbed a handful of tissues. Now back in my room with all the materials necessary for the job I began to try and kill the beast. Finding a way for the spider to live and be released outside would be ideal, but holding a spider, even trapped in a glass sends shivers down my spine. I decided to try the tissues first since that was probably the least messy option, as far as squashing the spider. I pulled my chair over to the wall grabbed around three tissues from the clump on my floor and stepped up onto the chair. The spider was now in reach but as I got a closer look at it, the thought of having the spider in my hands to kill it forced me to resort to plan B. I got down from the chair disgusted by the looks of the spider and reached for the dusty black shoe. I stepped onto the chair once more, holding the shoe from the inside. I reached over to get the spider out of my life once and for all, but when I got close it fell from its place on the wall to the chair below, near my feet. I leapt from the chair throwing the shoe across the room, I had yet again failed.

The spider had crawled back up to its original place during my time on the floor. I grabbed the tennis racket for a final try. I turned it so I was holding the head of the racket with my fingers laced around the strings and the base of it pointing outwards. I tried poking the spider with force in hopes of killing it but the racket wasn’t working. I stepped down to all the materials on my floor and realized that by putting all of them together I might be able to finally succeed. I started with the shoe, stepping onto the chair like before but this time smacking at the spider instead of a cautious approach.

When I stopped all that was left was a splat of brown liquid where the spider used to be. I threw down the shoe and grabbed the tennis racket like before, I scooped the liquid and legs, that were left behind then wiped the end with the tissues. I’d finally found the method for killing spiders that I will carry with me for many years to come. Each time I catch a black smudge lurking on the wall, I rush to the garage to grab the materials and begin my spider killing ritual.

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