A Letter to the Murderous, Homicidal Insect Who Met Me At My Door Last Night
Updated: Nov 20, 2020
You Have the Heart of a Movie Monster, and the Appearance to Match
Dear Murderous, Homicidal Insect:
First, let me assure you that you were so utterly terrifying I felt the need to redundantly emphasize your hysteria-inducing appearance and propensity for killing in the opening of this letter. Not only did you blend in with my door, making it impossible to see you until I was but a mere foot away, but you were also BIGGER THAN THE FREAKIN‘ DOOR LOCK.
The first thing I noticed when I saw you was your pair of terrifying, enormous back legs, which you could clearly use to jump over the roof of my house. Now, as you may know from reading works of fiction throughout the years, Insect, some novels include a character who, though unattractive on the outside, has a heart of gold. But not you, Insect. While your outward appearance would allow you to gain employment at a Halloween haunted house without the need for a costume, I am also pretty sure you have the heart of Jeffrey Dahmer.
Though you were at my door lurking like a sentry at the gates of the underworld, I still had to get into my house. I bravely reached out and turned the key in the deadbolt. This small movement caused you to kick into a frenzy not often seen outside of drunken mosh pits. Your enormous back legs propelled your body off the door, and I didn't wait one second. I retreated from the house, screaming like a girl, and dropping my sweater.
I noticed my nice neighbor across the street was exiting his car, and I felt the need to inform him that I was not falling victim to a serial murderer. (Ahem! A human serial murderer, that is.) I called out that I was fine when he inquired as to if I was being killed, and I told him I was just running from a murderous bug. He said he thought his dog had run across the street, and he began walking over.
At that point I spotted you, Insect, lurking in the shadows next to my house. Though much uglier and less endearing, you were at least the size of a dog. As I watched, you began jumping straight up and down.
WTF, Insect?! What kind of bug jumps straight up and down? Your antics brought to mind the scene in that Charlie Sheen alien movie, The Arrival, where the alien rotates his legs to the back and runs away. It is the only thing I find almost as creepy as your jumping. If you question if I'm right, Insect, just watch this gif:
As you kept springing in place like a six-legged pogo stick straight out of some Guillermo del Toro fantasy, I began screaming and backing up as though I was at my workplace and had just been asked to participate in team-building activities.
At this point, my neighbor's dog, obviously interested in whatever was making the terrible high-pitched racket, came to investigate, wagging his tail happily. He probably could not see you in the shadows, Insect, or he wouldn’t have had reason to feel any emotion besides abject terror. I still maintain that the high-pitched noises were not so much from my screaming, but more likely from the whine your wings and legs and other insect parts made as they rubbed together, waiting to pounce and rip me limb-from-limb.
I made a brave choice, and told my neighbor things were okay, and he and his dog went home. I also told him you were murderous and belonged in a horror movie.
Insect, please do not ever visit my home again. And if you must feed on human flesh I suggest you visit the set of the show Naked and Afraid, because then you won't even have to unwrap the humans before you eat them. I don't ever want to see you again Insect, unless it is in another installment of the film Mimic, and even then you better make sure the film is not 3D, because I know you would find a way to burst from the screen and take my life.
Still, even when I can't see you I will know you lie in wait, and I will watch for you around every corner, and over my shoulder as twilight approaches each evening.
Til We Meet Again, Insect,
Photo by the author