Contains Strong Language and Graphic Violence

Tuesday.

       It began in the morning.

       I was preparing for work, the fog of slumber still in my brain, as I went to transfer my laundry from the washer to the dryer. I moved the hamper, opened the washing machine, then the door to the dryer. No sooner did I get the door open than a hideous fiend leapt from the underside of the machine and into the lint trap. A wretched cockroach, one and a half, perhaps two mighty inches in length!

       Time stopped. My breathing stopped, and my heart stopped, and all was still. I'm pretty sure I went blind out of terror. What to do? It was clearly visible within the lint of the dryer trap, but I certainly couldn't get at it with a shoe. I daren't come so close with a wad of paper towels, and I had no poison. As the seconds ticked by I realized my options were few and my time even less; I had to get to work.

       In the evening, I returned home to get ready for class. I had mercifully forgotten my plight until I walked in and glanced toward the kitchen. Reluctantly, I entered the laundry room and reached for the door. Upon opening, I discovered the thing had been in the lint trap all day, and it proceeded to retreat into the drum of the dryer.
       Well, shit.
       I doused the inside with disinfectant spray, shut the door again and left, unwilling to deal with the thing just then.
       After class, I returned once again, and waited for the boyfriend. I had peeked inside the dryer and had not seen it, but was unwilling to reach my hand in blindly and wind up losing it. When he arrived, I informed him of the situation and handed him a wad of paper towels.

       He reached in and felt around, nothing. He stuck his head in (heart of a lion!) and looked, but could not find it.
       "I don't know where it is, but it isn't in here. Must've gotten out somehow."
       Then, in a single low breath, he leaned in and said:
       "It'll probably come for you now."

HE FEEDS ON HUMAN FEAR

     

Wednesday.

        The next workday came and went and I decided to disinfect the inside of the dryer and finally get my laundry done. I inspected the inside thoroughly, rotated the drum, and felt around with paper towels as I disinfected it. The last thing I wanted was to pull a garment out of the dryer and have the horrid monstrosity come flying out at me, or to find a bit of it in a shirt I'm wearing. Once it was satisfactorily clean, I loaded the now re-washed clothes and went about the rest of my evening.

Thursday.

       I awoke with a deep grogginess, as though induced by a dose of cold medicine. When I was finally able to get myself out of bed and moving, I realized I had been working on the same load of laundry for almost a week and was running low. I opened the dryer. A rag fell out onto the floor. I reached in and grabbed a black summer dress. As I pulled it out of the dryer my greatest nightmares were all realized at once. The heinous thing came flying out of the dress and hit the floor with a sickening crunch, it's body dry and hot.
       After I stopped sobbing I dropped the dress to the floor and retreated. There it still sits, dead at last, and waiting for me to come home and suck it into it's dusty vacuum grave. I may burn it's remains before I do, just to be safe.

Fucking thing is like the Jason Voorhees of cockroaches.