Murder On Hunter Street

Oh God, I'm going to hell. For most who know me I realize this isn't news, but I have new drama to add to the list. This afternoon I cruelly tortured then killed a spider. May he/she rest in peace (or, heaven help me, piece).

It began with good intentions. I took in the mail then headed to the bathroom for a fresh coat of face paint before leaving the house. I looked down at my black sweater and saw an orange/red blob which on closer inspection revealed itself to be a spider. I flicked it off into the sink with a warning: "You have four hours to disappear from my sight if you want to live."

But something hardened inside of me as I looked at it, sitting there motionless in the sink except for the front two legs which raised and lowered and raised and lowered. If not large, it still wasn't a spider of inconsequential size. Big enough to give one a small cardiac if, say, it chose to crawl into her makeup bin or clothes hamper and reveal itself at a later date. The more I thought about where the spider might go, the quicker it sealed his fate.

"I'm so sorry," I said, turning on the faucet. "But you must die now."'

But with water rushing around him, he clung to the edge of the drain. Let go! I mentally willed him. But no, he wouldn't, and his persistence won me over. I shut off the water. He paused for a moment, probably catching his breath, then heaved himself up to flop on top of the drain.

God, what have I done? Poor little spider. What if his internal organs have collapsed or he's half suffocated from the water? No, best to finish the job versus let him suffer. I pick up a sturdy shoe and aim. BAM! Dead on. His half-squished body lay mangled at the bottom of the sink.

I look at the bottom of my shoe, now wet. "Yuck," I say, grabbing a tissue and blotting it dry. I turn to the sink to pick up the remnants of the spider and--AAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

GONE!  Devil Spider! GONE! But how? I drop the tissue and shoe. Maybe he's stuck to one of them. But no, I left him smooshed in the sink. Where the hell did the body go? I gingerly nose the tissue and shoe. Nothing. Then I see it. Two small orange legs emerge once again from beneath the drain as the spider pulls himself up.

Agh! Agh! Agh! What the hell kind of super-spider is this? Peter Parker my ass. If this thing bit someone they'd have superpowers that would send the stupid newspaper photographer fly-boy reeling.

Frankly, I'm afraid at this point. Either this spider is super-powerful or God does not want him to die. But now I know the spider really IS suffering, because I did half-squoosh him. So I chose the cowards way out. I turned the water on full force and ran it for a full 30 seconds, flushing him down the drain. Then I ran it another 10 seconds, just to be safe. And once more for good  measure in case he was still clinging to life somewhere down there in the pipes.

Am I not a total schmuck? I can not BELIEVE how I tortured this small creature. I should have just grown some balls and scooped him up in a cup and released him back outside. Now I'm haunted by his death. And I do mean haunted. This evening I saw a small spider on the ceiling in my closet and a spider/bug thing was crawling on my neck and I had to fling it away.

I don't suppose apologizing to the insect and animal kingdom at large will do me much good at this point. I'll have to accept my fate, whatever they decide for me.

I don't suppose any of us will be be surprised if it involves a good squooshing.