皮皮
皮皮

馬來西亞90後 喜歡寫日常

cockroach

The mental journey of a woman living alone fighting against cockroaches

The room I stayed in had a lot of cockroaches. I've asked others, and rooms in my direction are prone to cockroaches.

I know it's not because of the cleanliness of my room that I have nothing to do with it after attracting cockroaches.

Cockroaches are too hard to beat. If you beat it lightly, they jump around and occasionally fly; if you beat it hard, there will be cockroach juice overflowing, brown, and smelly. It's dead or alive, and the six feet have been struggling, challenging my compassion. I rarely kill cockroaches with one hit, they are too strong.


I used to fight cockroaches without blinking, and I didn't feel any guilt about killing.

Until one time, I saw cockroaches hiding in the soles of my shoes, which were sneakers in the corner of the room. I stomped on my shoe quietly, and it clicked, crunchy, it died.

This was the first time I felt a cockroach die crunchly, listening to the sound, and feeling it was being run over, so distinct.

Before, I rolled up a useless notebook and quickly hit the cockroaches, all with a loud bang, and I didn't feel the cockroaches flatten.

After that, I didn't dare to fight cockroaches.

Ah, I still get goosebumps thinking about it now.


I'm starting to lose my grip and get anxious.

Watching the cockroaches flee in the corner of the room, I can't do anything.

By the way, the cockroaches here are huge, about the same length as my little finger.

The good thing is that cockroaches only come out and party at night when I'm sleeping.

I know there is a cockroach, it will be on the table when I wake up, after I turn on the light, go to the toilet and come back, it is gone, and then repeat the same process the next day. It also likes to splash sand, and the soil of the plants I grow always has a small corner of the sand dug up.

One is fine, I can bear it, it's quite measured.


I haven't slept well for the past few days.

I could hear the sound of cockroaches walking on the floor (like the sound of a plastic bag being blown by the wind), and I thought it was the one, but I ignored it.

In order to catch up with my homework this morning, I got up early, at five in the morning.

When I woke up, I turned on the light in the dark, and saw a cockroach on the floor.

I went to turn on the light, hey, I saw another one on the table, so there are two in the room.

I was going to the toilet, and when I tried to open the door, I saw one on the doorknob.

Ah, three, I can't bear it anymore, I want to cry.

Apparently I woke up too early to see this scene.


After dawn, I bought an insecticide, sprayed it behind the table, all three came out, and all died.

Buying pesticides became the happiest thing I ever did today. sense of security.


After thinking about it for a while, I think my idea is really strange.

One is fine and tolerable, although cockroaches are known to be unclean. In fact, I should have killed it sooner rather than later. I also feel that it is a bit wasteful to buy insecticide for a cockroach, and I don't want to kill.

But the three have a sense of crisis, I feel that my room is about to be occupied, I am unhappy, and I will be woken up by the sound of their dancing when I sleep. Buying pesticides has become a matter of course, and I don't care about killing people, because if I don't kill, I'll be scared every morning, it's not good, and it's unsanitary. Life is innocent, but I also have to survive, there is really no way.

Oh my thinking, so not so crisp.

CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

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