Arachnophobia

          In the room, a cellar spider clings above the ebony nightstand, scrawny legs cast a shadow on the wall. My throat tightens as I approach it with a palpitating heart. Cobwebs cover the corner, trapped flies are fluttering in them. I’m gazing at the circular movement of the creature.

          Overcoming my arachnophobia hasn’t been a simple case. In the past, if I saw a spider moving towards me, I would tremble in every limb. I called for dad with a quavering voice. He took it out to the yard, next to the rakes and wheelbarrow, since he never smashed any of them. Dad believed spiders were our best friends. They caught mosquitoes and stayed in a proper place when they found an ideal hideout.

          However, I thought that if I left them inside, they would crawl into my ears or mouth at night. A classmate startled me with that, and the news had a similar report. I was shivering from the wild guess, checking every corner before sleep, and pulling the duvet up to my nose. Spiders moved quickly and appeared in an unexpected way.

          Dad laughed at me and waved off that theory. He was a practical man, assuring that spiders weren't interested in exploring my inner parts. Heat flooded my cheeks as he didn’t listen to me and neglected my fear. Then I grew up, realizing the stark truth, the reason for his unconcerned attitude. I turned a deaf ear to his opinion—not just about spiders, but about everything.

          Since he has gone, leaving an enormous hole in the sky, I have to deal with this interloper alone. It’s looking at me with tiny black eyes, waiting for if we’ll befriend or not, to be a constant ornament above the nightstand. Staying true to dad’s worldview and giving his suggestion a chance, or living in anxiety, maintaining the emotional distance between us forever.

          The cellar spider stops in its tracks for a while, as if it understands the weight of the decision.

Bettina Laszlo writes fiction and nonfiction to tell what is beyond expression. Her work has appeared in the Dragonfly educational programme and is forthcoming at NUNUM. She lives in Budapest with her fiancé and enjoys watching parrot videos with her fluffy parakeet.