Roach

I am a cockroach. I’m currently living under the fridge in a single man’s house. The tight gap is a little restricting and a little claustrophobic, but I still like it. A nice ball of dust and fluff is gathered in the back left-hand corner which makes for a great bed and most of my food comes from crumbs dropped on the floor. I have odd mandibles that feel a little creaky, for a human I suppose you’d relate to a clicky jaw; my wings are a little bigger than most, but my back legs are small. All roaches are different in some aspects but my physical proportions are quite off.

I’ve been living here for a good eight weeks, and I’ve been alive for nine. On July the 2nd Mum dumped us lot in a drain a few blocks over from my house now. I and thirty-four other little roaches were crawling out of the ootheca, with our collective two-hundred and four writhing twitching legs climbing over one another. We moved as a mass struggling to escape the clutches of the egg sac. I remember pushing through the group of legs and seeing light for the first time in my life. It came pouring in through the grates of the rusted drain and onto my teeny, black bead-like eyes. I remember being awestruck at that moment as I saw the hot blazing ball of heat and light. It was beautiful but burning. I took a breath. And then I was pulled back down at once, into the mad struggle for life, my own flesh and blood not caring if we poked each other's eyes or stood on one another's foot. I understood it. We all wanted to survive but I was at an immense disadvantage. My wings were not fully developed so I was stuck with the weak power of my legs. I pushed out of the sac but was repeatedly struck by my sibling's feet, leading me to fall back into the hole and get stuck by the slime of the walls. That’s why I only made it three blocks out, I was stuck in the sac for an extra hour,trying climb out of the sludge.

I lost touch with most of my siblings as they all headed in different directions, but I have seen a few roaches from different batches in recent days. Last week I was scurrying my little legs along the floor of the living room when I saw a roach, fluttering her wings in the lamp shade. The lamp had been left on, and through the illusion of shadow, her big buzzing wings were painted across the wall in a black silhouette. She seemed to be infatuated with the light, staring straight into the bulb and swaying her body around. I only observed and didn’t engage. I’m sure she could’ve noticed my presence if she wanted to, but she was too enthralled by the light to look away. I watched the light and the roach for a while before flying away, wincing at my ugly obtuse wings getting in the way of each other and realizing it was best she didn’t see me.

Each night I would wake up and go scavenging in the kitchen. I would usually poke around on the corners of the skirting boards collecting little crumbs and drops of juices with my mandibles. There were always a few splashes in front of the sink so that’s my nightly water hole and from there I headed back home, but at that point I had been wondering about the kitchen bench. I had been wondering what food might be up there and what places to hide. Most of all I was wondering what I would be able to see out of the kitchen window. Cockroaches don’t usually want, most of the time we don’t even have too much to think about and when we do, we’re mainly just trying to understand what we’re seeing. But this wanting was what I believe to be the first desire I ever had, and it was strangling me. I was very, very intrigued.

Eventually the want became a need, and I had to fulfill it. One evening after my housemate was asleep and I awoke, I decided I would do it. I began to climb up the cabinets and got to about the metal handles of them when my antennae began to twitch and curl around. I stopped for a second to try and understand what they were doing, but I could not figure it out. My antennae then shifted from a twitch to a constant tremble and the left of my wings lifted a little, in defense, as my compound eyes grew shaky. I asked myself if I was sure I wanted to go up there, and he responded yes. My forelegs made a false start on me before they shifted into gear and crawled me over the corner and onto the bench top. On top.

And what did I see? Through the window above the sink, I could see the moon, full and big. It towered over my small body and cast moonlight into the kitchen in the same square shape as the window. It was beautiful. So large and mountainous, that it made me feel small. So bright and magnificent, that it made me feel ugly. It made me hate myself and love the world. It confirmed everything I knew and made my head hang low. But still, I just needed to be showered in the moon's glory for as long as I could. So, I stayed there and let it make me feel calm and at ease. I let it put me into a trance, and I stared into the cool light that night until it began to disappear. My little legs stayed on the kitchen floor until I heard the rustlings of the other cockroach flying through the house. My antenna twitched and I hurried behind the paper towels out of instinct. Then I understood that it was best I hid so that she wouldn’t be scared by my appearance. I watched her for a moment, as she soaked in the moon too. I understood that she stared at the moon in the same way I did. I could see that she also thought it was beautiful, but that she could never find that same beauty in herself or a partner. I was comforted by this fact but remained hidden. We stayed there for a while until she sighed, and I realized I ought to hide under the fridge again. I made my way behind the toaster and the knife rack and crawled my big lunky wings, and my small insufficient legs into the shadow of the fridge. I stayed there out of kindness. She shouldn’t have to see me. Not when there’s beautiful things out there.