Crawler

by Alexis Nesbella
(Linesville PA)

I’ve always had a fear of bugs, ever since I was a little girl. And now my fear is becoming a nightmare. Every waking second that I sit here, rocking back and forth, back and forth in the corner, holding my knees to my chest. Then an explosion in my right wrist. I scratch, and scratch, but it won’t stop itching. I feel it, and I know what it feels like on my skin, creeping, prickly. Then pain, pain, pain, the pain, the itching, the swelling it hurts so bad. I can’t take it any longer.

I dig my nails into my wrist and claw at my own flesh. I can’t take it! I rip and tear at my flesh. It still has the feeling. I want them out! I scream. I’m bleeding, but I’m clawing at it. It hurts. My mind is telling my body to stop, but my body disobeys like a teenager, you can’t tell me what to do. I want to stop. Every ounce of energy, that I have needs to be focused on something else. And then it stops. The feeling I felt. The crawly feeling was gone. I start to relax.

But then it’s back. Only it’s all over my body. I dig at my face, tearing my shirt off, and digging into my back. I scream, No!. it’s not just on my skin, it’s under my skin. That creepy, crawly, prickly feeling. I scratch open the wounds on my right wrist and watch it poor out. Bugs oozing out of my body like a fish swimming in water. I scream and all I can feel is the prick and bites of a thousand hairy spiders, as they crawl up and down my back. My worst fear is now a nightmare. It’s all thanks to the crawlers.


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