"Bugged"
What happens when you don't look before leaping – or, in April O'Neil's case, where you put your foot?
xxx
Disclaimer: No, I don't own the main character. Been writing for eight years, too, and I still have to borrow her. That should tell you something, yes?
xxx
When the alarm went off, chasing away the cobwebs of sleep, I cracked open an eye. I found my room bathed in black. When I heard rain pounding outside against my bedroom window, heralding in a wet and dreary day, I groaned. I really didn't want to go to work on such a day. I mentally pictured myself dry and warm in my little apartment, huddled on my couch, wrapped in my fuzzy robe, and sipping a cup of hot coffee.
Unfortunately, it did little to encourage me to get out of bed.
Then, lightning flashed and briefly lit up my bedroom. The boom of thunder followed and I shuddered. When my room returned to its previously dark, quiet state, a sense of foreboding came over me, as if something was about to happen.
I ignored it. I'm April O'Neil; something is always happening.
Reluctantly and with sleep still pulling at my eyelids, I reached over and shut off the annoying alarm. I sat up, swung my legs out from under the warm, embracing covers, and staggered to a stand. Mine was a well-known routine, even without any light.
I shivered against the early morning chill, so I groped in the dark and found my robe still in the chair next to my bedside table, where I had put it the previous night. I quickly pulled it on.
Next, I shuffled my right foot around the floor, hunting for my slippers. When I found them, I shoved first my right foot and then the left into the shoes' soft caress.
It was in that moment when I froze.
Nerves shot a warning from my foot straight up my leg to my head. All senses went into emergency alert. A creepy sensation started spreading from the top of my toes and up the arch.
Startled and alarmed, I staggered and did an awkward jig, then a hop, then another jig, my mind trying to catch up with what my body was trying to tell it.
However, what with the slow acceptance of a dark shrouded morning and the disconcerting tingle on my toes, my impromptu Flamenco dance had me crashing into the wall next to the chair. I bounced back like a rubber beach ball, which caused my balance to teeter even more. My reaction sent arms flailing uncontrollably like an off-centered windmill trying to reclaim some sort of balance. The more my arms whirled around the more elusive that balance became.
Attempting to regain my equilibrium, I turned and hopped one legged, and tried using my right foot to counter my spinning, arms.
However, my befuddled brain was still trying to catch up. My slipper caught on a bed support leg. The next thing I knew I was falling.
Still, dark though it was, I knew my bedroom by heart.
One handedly, I found and then grabbed the edge of my bed's footboard to stop my fall. However, my weight and awkward position caused me to do a ninety-degree twirl around the end of the bed. As I tried unsuccessfully to regain my balance - one hand grabbing the footboard, the other outstretched and searching for something else to grab, my free hand brushed against the light switch on the wall.
I swear I did not have the presence of mind to flip it on, but I must have done something, because on it came. The resulting light now flooded my room and effectively blinded me.
Startled, I gave in and hit the floor on my rump. My right hand still clutched the footboard, while my free hand continued connecting with whatever it could reach. This time, it knocked off a stack of books from the desk facing my bed. They toppled in a heap beside me.
Unfortunately, I was still aware enough to know that my foot continued to crawl with 'something'.
Instinctively I kicked my leg outward and successfully dislodged my offending slipper. It flew across the room and crashed against the far wall, along with the biggest cockroach that I had ever seen.
Both landed on the floor near my closet.
In a flash, I was back on my feet. For a moment, I stood there, freaked out by the cockroach. Good grief, it was huge!
Dazed and confused, the bug circled.
What to do, what to do, I thought frantically. Then, I spied my toppled books.
Weapons!
Down crashed the nearest book I could grab.
I missed.
The roach circled faster.
Down came another book.
I missed again.
The bug stopped circling and tried running towards my closet.
In panic, I blindly grabbed yet another book and tossed it.
Squash!
YAY, a direct hit!
I sighed in relief, and then grimaced.
Big squashed bug means a big gooey mess. Ewww.
Although I had finally restored order and the rain outside had slowed, wishing me a good morning, I was still too unsettled to reply. I was most certainly not in the mood for pleasantries.
I stumbled over to my bedside table and grabbed a handful of tissues from the Kleenex box that I kept there. While I cleaned up the mess, I knew that my morning routine would never be the same, because one question kept nagging at me: What other bugs lurked in my room?
I really hate bugs, especially big ones that sleep in my slippers.
The End...or is it?
xxx
Authors Notes: So, this what my husband woke up to, a bug in his slippers. He later wrote to me about his little adventure, and it spawned "Bugged". There's an equal smattering of his words and mine in this little one-shot. Yes, we need to fumigate, but we keep putting it off cuz, well, it's POISON, FOLKS! Our entire neighborhood crawls with these things. Going to do something, now, that's for sure, even if we have to move out for a month to allow the 'fumes' to settle and nullify. Anyway, everything happened as depicted in the story, except my hubby doesn't know how he managed to get the light on before he fell. All he remembers is that something was in his slipper and it was ALIVE! Muahahaha...*cough*