THE COCKROACH

Chapter 1

"Step right up," I called,disrupting the relative silence that was residing over Whammy's house. "Come see the wonderful thrills of the one- the only- Whammy's house oct-annual bug circus! The last of the season! Watch the boll weevils rumble! See the fleas trapeze!" I shouted into a megaphone. I was standing on a crate, wildly exclaiming the announcement to a small crowd of passers-by.

One by one the kids gathered, forming a half circle around a wooden box. Inside were my beloved pride and joys, the performers of the bug circus. There were many types of insects and arthropods; fleas flipping through the air, rhinoceros beetles battling it out, and a spider named Sophia dancing fluidly on her web. 'Oooh's and 'Ahhh's erupted from the crowd of young geniuses as they watched the bugs do such remarkable things. I, the ring leader, was announcing the acts when suddenly-

"Ewww! A bug!" a girl shrieked.

SQUISH!

"Ludo! Noooo!" I cried. I turned with a glare to the offender, fists balled. "You killed Ludo, you monster! He was just about to juggle his eighth bead!"

"Well.. It was gross. And bugs are dirty, y'know?" the girl, Rita, defended,shrugging nonchalantly. She had a distinct lack of sorry in her voice. I always hated people like her. It was one thing to be care free, but another thing entirely to simply not care.

"I'll show you dirty!" With that, I pounced on the newly dubbed murderer, pinning her to the ground. Before Rita could fully experience the wrath of an enraged bug enthusiast, I felt myself being forcefully yanked off of her and lifted into the air. An elderly man, Roger no doubt, now held me slung over his shoulder and flailing about like a sentient sack of potatoes.

"Put me down, old man! She ain't received her whoopin' yet!" I complained. Wordlessly, Roger carried me, screaming all the way, into his office. I had to give him credit for being so frail looking, yet still being perfectly capable of carrying a less than cooperative ten year old like that. He took a deep breath in preparation of the long winded lecture he was about to release on me.

"Child," he began, looking hard into my eyes. I stared back for once completely silent. He still didn't say anything and I was beginning to wonder if he had slipped into a trance or fallen asleep mid conversation. My grandfather did that once, it was one of the weirder things that happened during my earlier years. Sensing that he wasn't particularly planning on breaking the still and quiet air, I took the liberty of doing it for him.

"Mr. Ruvie?" I asked, "If this is a staring contest, I can assure you you aren't going to win. Azazel tried and we timed it. I lasted for almost five minutes. See I can go into this like trance or something that somehow makes me not feel like blinking and-"

"Enough, child. You should know that trying to distract me won't work. I am not so easily charmed by a little story as Mr. Whammy may be," he scolded.

" I was just trying to.." I mumbled trailing off when I realized I was only digging myself a deeper grave so to speak. I looked at the floor and clutched my hands together instead, my feet suddenly becoming a more interesting matter than the subject at hand. I deliberately let my chestnut bangs fall over my face to shadow my eyes. This seemed somehow safer than meeting his eyes again. For all my vigor and gusto, negative moods really sucked the life out of me. And if one thing was sure, Roger Ruvie could hands down win the award for Negative Nancy.

I flinched away at the sound of Roger sucking in another angry breath through his teeth. Luckily (for me at least), I was saved when a nervous looking help came in and whispered something frantically into his ear. I watched out of the corner of my vision as his eyebrows scrunched together like furry caterpillars, only they were absolutely no where close to being as cute as caterpillars, and a grimace stretched across his face.

"Stay here," he directed. "I must take care of something dire. Don't you try any of your little stunts like last time!" he warned as he ushered the helper out before him.

Ah, the famous last time. During my previous adventure I set off a stinkbug to fumigate the room. When the old man had left to catch a breather, I escaped through the window and hid in the garden shed. Even now the rancid stench still clung faintly to the fabric of his chair, where the bug bomb had gone off.

"Don't you worry, sir," I consoled, giving him a snaggle-toothed grin and patting him lightly on the arm. "I'll be right here. Won't move a muscle!" Roger just 'harrumphed' and turned to leave the room. I swear, old people are just so cranky!

To show him just how serious I was, I froze up and tensed all of my muscles in a deliberately odd position. I was on one leg and leaning forward precariously with my arms out stretched in front of me. I stayed that way until I heard his hobbling footsteps shuffle down the hall and out of ear shot. Then I released the tension and let my limbs drop down into a more natural position. "Like heck I'm just gonna wait for him to come back and beat me!" I exclaimed to myself. "Just who does he think I am?"

Revitalized with the mood killer gone, I reached into the front pocket of my shorts and pulled out a small pod of beads. I rubbed them in my hands and blew on them for a moment to activate them. "My room in five," I whispered before rolling them out the door. I pressed my ear to the wooden door and only moved when I heard the commotion and chaos emanating from the other side. While I may have just given Roger all he needs to know of my escape, I also bought myself a good and sure five minutes. That was more time than I'd ever need.

I shoved up the window before launching myself out. I barely stopped to regain my balance, instead opting to use the momentum to fall into a mad dash towards the garden shed. As I approached my destination, I heard the shrill shriek of a girl from somewhere inside the house. Gosh, I hope that was Rita. Maybe I should plant some mosquito buzzers in her room to haunt her. That'll teach her to mess with my bugs! I laughed evilly.

xilix xilix

The garden shed was a dilapidated old thing, half hidden behind a couple of trees. It had forgotten planks of plywood stacked against it, indicating that it hadn't been used in ages. A false indication as many children frequently hid in it to escape Roger. Roger has a debilitating phobia of spiders which keeps him from looking too extensively in all the nooks and crevices, making this the perfect hiding spot.

This one in particular was especially perfect because it lacked any source of lighting. There were no windows and no place for a light fixture either. It had been abandoned years ago when a major infestation of roaches and termites was discovered. It has long since been treated, but the emotional trauma inflicted on Roger's psyche ran deep. After all, he was the one who had a rotting termite-y ceiling collapse on him, covering him in all sorts of unspeakables.

When I looked at the shed, I saw something that probably hadn't happened in years. The rusty old lock had slipped shut. I could tell it had not been closed hard enough to actually lock, per se, but it wasn't in any hurry to fall open either. I yanked it rather hard, having to throw all my weight into it before it even budged. I wiped the crust of chipped paint, rust, and grime on my shorts and tossed the broken lock to the floor. A small tinkling alarm sounded, informing me that there was just one minute left before my nano-bugs marched back to my room. I squealed and jumped with excitement and the thrill of coming down to the wire. The latch was refusing to open and my constant bouncing was not helping in the least, but I couldn't bare to stop.

Finally it came free and I was able to catapult myself into the shed, taking care to shut, or rather slam the door behind me. I made my way through the maze of untouched garden supplies and collapsed against the back wall and slid down, my pulse racing and my breathing ragged. I smiled weakly as I came down from my adrenaline high.

"What a rush," I sighed to myself and flopped down completely. The landing was oddly cushioned, but I chalked that up to rotting wood or a bag of weeds left from the gardeners. Turns out I was wrong on both accounts. It was another Whammy resident, a fact that became blatantly obvious when I felt a sharp shove in the middle of my back that sent me sprawling.

"Get off me!" the kid whisper-shouted. Oh, yeah. That talking thing. That definitely clued me in, too. I sat up and pulled a sliver out of my palm.

"You aren't a pile of leaves," I told him seriously.

"Well no sh*t!" he said dryly.

"My, my! You sir are a potty mouth!" I accused. He didn't dignify me with a response. He turned away from me and every aspect of his body language screamed that he didn't care to talk with me any longer. I ignored every one of those signs. "So, are you giving Roger the slip too?"

"Duh."

"Well shove over so I'm not so exposed. If he sees me we're both caught." He said nothing, but complied, making room for me next to him behind an over-turned wheel-barrow. After a few moments of unbearably awkward silence, I spoke again,"So how'd you get away from the old man? Did you push him down the stairs? You really shouldn't do that, you know? They don't make old men like they used to." He ignored that comment too. Man, he was really good at this ignoring thing. I may have to take some lessons from him. I'm sure my teachers would totally appreciate it.

"Some idiot dropped their ant farm or something. Roger let me go because one bit or stung or whatever him, and now here I am," he explained shrugging.

"Oh, those were my special Armageddon Ants! That's how I staged my escape!" I smiled at a sudden realization, "Wait, if I helped you... then that means you owe me now!" I pointed at him for emphasis.

"I don't owe you anything! I didn't ask for your help! Now shut up," he covered my mouth and dropped his voice. "Someone's coming," he whispered, though I think it was more to himself than me.

We held our breath and squished even closer to each other. Despite knowing that Roger couldn't see us with his old eyes and the lack of lighting, I was still surprisingly scared. The door opened slowly letting in a sliver of blinding light from outside. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from the source. A voice rang from the doorway like an angel calling from the beyond.

"Roger's given up, Mells," it said. "You're safe to come out." I blinked and glared against the harsh lighting. The bearer of good news was a red headed boy with goggles and eyes glued to a Nintendo screen. He looked to be around the same age as me. The boy who I was currently leaning against stood up suddenly, causing me to fall roughly on the ground.

"A little warning next time?" I called from the musty floor. I was ignored completely.

"Thanks, Matt," he said dusting off his dark pants.

"Someone wanna help me up?" I asked, but was once again disregarded. "Hey, Blondie, down here!" Nothing. "Hey, look! A dinosaur eating a unicorn with a hernia!" I sighed, tired of getting nowhere. "Mells?" I tried, using the name this Matt kid used. Unfortunately, my pleas remained unheard and I had to get up on my own.

I hopped over various garden tools and skirted my way around some frighteningly pointy objects before stopping square in front of the blue eyes deaf dragon. "Whelp, 'Mells'" I said, extending a hand.

"Mello," he corrected.

"Okay, then Mello, pleasure meeting you," I stretched my hand out farther and he took it hesitantly. "The name's Cockroach." I gave his hand a firm shake. "I'll come find you when I'm ready to collect my debt."

"For the last time, I don't owe you!" he called after me. I just chuckled and shoved my hands in my pockets as I walked away, a refreshing breeze tousling my short hair.

Hey, Everyone! I hoped you enjoyed my first installment of The Cockroach! It certainly was a pleasure to write. Stay tuned for more chapters. Also, since you have already made it this far down the page, please do leave a review. It's good for the soul!~