Cockroaches

I was alone when I saw it crawling on the outside of my bedroom window.

I saw the underside of its body, its parts moving in grotesque unison.

Long antennae.

Translucent, strong wings.

Six legs moving quickly, making short work of my screen.

I was alone when he followed me up the stairs from the entryway to my apartment door.

I saw the yellow tinge of his teeth, stained from 20 years of cigarette smoke.

5 o'clock shadow.

Short, strong body.

Two eyes moving slowly across my frame, making my floor-length dress feel insignificant.

It crawled up the screen, antennae probing the entire time, eventually finding the gap where glass and mesh met.

I saw it begin to crawl through the space that had been left open.

I didn't leave the space open, but that didn't matter to it.

A building flaw and hasty paint job let it in.

An opening, an entry, a chance.

It took it. It came in.

An opportunity too good to miss.

I froze. Why did I freeze? 

Fear. Fear froze me and held me to my bed. I hate cockroaches. Southern waterbugs. Flying pests. Periplaneta americana. 

It no long mattered that I was frozen and afraid, it was inside now.

Why didn't you do more to stop it?

Why didn't you grab a shoe and kill it?

Why didn't you try harder?

You hate cockroaches and one was taking its sweet, precious time coming into your bedroom.

You should have done something.

Why didn't you?

You should have. 

Why couldn't you? It's like you invited it in. 

It's like you wanted this.

He walked in my house, smiling the entire time.

My excuses and pleasantries fell on deaf ears.

I didn't let him in, but that didn't matter to him.

This is out of character for him.

Is it out of character for him?

You don't know his character.

You don't know him.

He smiles at you each morning, but you don't speak the same language.

He pushed me, but not too hard. He grabbed me, but didn't leave a mark.

An opportunistic predator pouncing.

I froze. Why did I freeze?

Fear. I feared him and all men in that moment.

My fear didn't matter, he was inside now.

Why did you wear that dress?

Why did you go out drinking?

Why didn't you say something better to make him stop?

Why didn't you fight?

You should have.

Why couldn't you? It's like you invited him in.

It's like you wanted this.

You can't sleep knowing there's a cockroach in your room.

You can't sleep.

Your tear ducts are the only things that aren't frozen and they keep you awake.

You lost a cockroach in your room.

You lost.

You didn't use enough paint to seal the crack.

You were too nice.

You didn't make sure the window was shut tight.

You smiled too big.

Your reaction time was too slow.

You shouldn't have been alone.

Uninvited pests and unwelcome guests.

I hate cockroaches.

But this, this was not your fault.