The Wrath of Spiders

Some say that spider revenge is real. My aunt killed a spider that hung above her head on the wall, killed it in cold blood. The next day, a spider bigger and harrier than the one before stood beside her on the sofa, watching and waiting for the right moment.

I have killed many spiders in my time: big ones, tiny ant-sized spiders, fat ones and hairy ones. I have killed many spiders over the years; I am probably a serial killer to them by now. The only strange part is, they never get their revenge after I kill one of their fellow comrades. Not yet, anyway.

I woke up one morning and something seemed off. The house was deafeningly silent. Granted, I lived alone, but there was always some sort of noise, the pipes or the outside world, to fill in the blank.  Today, even the outside world seemed quiet. It felt as if I were in a void. I shook the uneasy feeling off and put it down to the coldness of the house.

I went about my morning routine, pouring myself a cup of coffee and turning the TV on just so I wouldn’t feel so alone. I picked my coffee up and went to sit on the sofa, but something was amiss. A light tapping sound echoed against the wall. At first, I didn’t know what it was, but as I listened, I thought it could have been the TV acting up.

I took a sip of my coffee, feeling something soft touch my lips. I stopped drinking and looked down to find something thin, long and black peeking out of the brown liquid. I slammed the cup on the table in front of me. I fixed my gaze on the coffee; it looked like an alien antenna.

I didn’t want to touch the cup; I didn’t want the thing that swam in my drink to jump out of the murky waters like a swamp monster about to eat me whole. The tapping on the walls increased as the sound got nearer. I took my attention away from the cup and muted the TV. The tapping was light, almost like a shy ghost.

I was frustrated. The tapping sound was worse than a ticking clock while you’re trying to sleep. The long antenna-like thing grew longer as it folded over the lip of the mug. The thing had tiny damp hairs from the coffee. The hairs on my neck stood on end.

I stood up from my spot on the sofa. I didn’t feel safe with the creature trying to claw its way out of the now cold water. I could feel myself slipping away and letting the fear consume me.

I took a step around the table, keeping an eye on the cup. I thought I was seeing things; my white wall behind the sofa looked as though it was painting itself brown.

The spiders were coming for me.

They covered the wall as if ready for battle. The creature that lurked in the depths of my cup finally emerged with its seven other legs and large body.

I shouldn’t have forgotten my medication because now the spiders were coming after me.

About haringeyunchained

Haringey Unchained is a collective of students aiming to show case the creative talent of Haringey Sixth Form College in Tottenham, London. We think that through the promotion of our creative thoughts, we can educate our community, bringing to the foreground the critical and creative consciousness of a vibrant school in a deprived part of London. We are endeavouring to provide this blog as a platform for our community, giving the space to those whose work otherwise might not be seen or read. Being that the cuffs are off, we are able to express through our photography, art, short fiction and poetry, what’s really on our minds. We are free.

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