Assignment 10- Katie Demos

The physical thing I am most afraid of is EASILY stinkbugs. I can't really explain why. Throw a spider on me, tell me that there's an ant infestation in my room, and I'm not fazed. Ask most of my friends, and I'm the person who's not scared of squashing the cricket, the girl who always swats down fast flying mosquitos that swarm the air. But stinkbugs are my kryptonite. This is especially a hinderance in the fall season, where for some reason the rapid proliferations of the literal spawn of satan decide to ALL AT ONCE invade my room. And only my room.
As I sit here typing I am actually filled with discomfort. Last time I had an encounter with a stinkbug, I was approaching my most vulnerable state: slumber. Let me preface by saying that I have extremely sensitive ears, most notably when I sleep. If I hear something other than my own breathing at night,  the thing making the noise must be destroyed.
If you've ever heard a bee or a wasp buzzing, you've heard a stinkbug. That may be the stem of my fear. The incessant, threatening, prodding flutter of wings and invasiveness.
Anyways, I was trying to sleep, and you can probably predict the rest of the story. All darkness and quiet and dreams when
buzz.... buzzz....buzzZZZZZZZ
UM, NO. I shot up out of my bed, flooded with horror and feeling as if my stomach had fallen to the ground. I already felt the tears in my eyes. I couldn't see it, but I KNEW that it was there. The panic enervating my bones and sending me into fight or flight responsiveness. You bet I was out of my room as fast, yet as quietly, as I could go. I was surprised that I hadn't just passed out right there and then, considering how tired I was (it was somewhere around 12 at night). Unwilling to risk sleeping in the same room as my terrorizer, I slept on the couch in my living room, without blankets and without peace of mind.
Of course, that morning, I knew I had to enter my room so I could get ready for school, and possibly meet my demise. To no surprise, I was met face to face with the bug, chilling on top of my dresser, as if it was a ruler of some kingdom. MY kingdom. I cried. A lot.
Long story short, I'm not afraid of heights or dying or serial killers or clowns. Just stinkbugs.