The Haarskeerder

    We have loads of these every summer, as soon as the first rains have come, and normally Pio deals with them, as I shrivel up and have a heart attack in the corner. But ... he was away. I was tucked up in bed watching TV, Cady in bed beside me and Kita on her bed at the foot.

    I suddenly saw movement out the corner of my eye, and realised a bloody haarskeerder was slowly climbing the wall towards the window. They don't choose to climb, as from what I've seen, they can only climb using their front two icky legs, dragging their big fat bodies behind them. 

    My heart stopped. I was alone, with no man to protect me.

   Bear in mind, I tackle four meter pythons and warthogs with no second though. But these things make me go cold. 

    I didn't see a slop anywhere in sight, so bolted off my bed to find one. On return, he fell off the wall and was heading for the corner by Pio's bedside table. I tried to hit him with the slop, but even on this close encounter, I screamed like a polecat and jumped up and down on the bed with revulsion and a pounding heart.

    These things are incredibly fast. They move like lightning on speed. 

    He disappeared under the bed. I stood there for a moment, contemplating. There would be no sleep for me tonight, unless he was dead. My bed is against the wall, he can climb, and I also have one of those bloody mattress covers that I am sure he could latch onto with his evil, creepy, sticky feet. My pepper spray was in Swakop. I'd probably kill myself with a ricochet if I brought the shotgun out. 

    Now, I know Doom doesn't kill these buggers, but I'm sure if I finished the can on him, it would do the trick enough to be able to plant him with a plakkie. 

    I headed for the kitchen. 

    On return, armed with the can of Doom, I picked up the torch and inspected my bedroom with wide eyes. He had to be here somewhere. Which meant I had to look under the bed. The bedroom is really badly lit, hence the torch. 

    I crouched down, using the torch to look under the bed, Doom at the ready, to see if I could spot him hiding in a corner. 

    It was then I felt something on my arm. 

    I'm sure I had a heart attack. 

    The bastard was stuck to my arm, obviously having run up me. I was stupidly wearing long pyjama pants and a t-shirt, giving him ample grip - until he hit my arm. 

    I shrieked like an eight-year-old girl and started jumping around like a gymnast on speed. The doom went flying, hit the floor, and the plastic top broke into pieces. The torch went in the other direction. I slapped him frantically, suffering a nip in the process, but got him off me. I was still screaming. 

    The bugger came at me again, those legs working like a steam train. I continued screaming and ran into the bathroom. He followed, running for my feet. I did something that looked like a cross between a rain dance and an epileptic fit, and launched myself into the bath. 

    He scuttled around the edges of the bath, while I stood there, heart pounding, with nothing to hit him with. He disappeared back into the bedroom. I remained in the bath, contemplating my next move. There was none, really. My Doom can was in pieces and I had no other weapons. 

    I gingerly exited the bath and approached my bedroom. Our bath is particularly tiny - I don't really fit in it (when I met the woman that built the house, I realised why. She's a midget.) so that wasn't an option to sleep in, although I did consider it. 

     I phoned Pio, shrieking down the phone at him. He laughed at me. "They can't bite," he said. Bull. They bloody do. 

    I retrieved the can of Doom and the pieces of its top, and managed to squish one part of the top back on enough to make it spray in a general direction of where I wanted to. I sprayed everything. 

    He didn't reappear. The dogs were looking at me like I was insane.

    I mean, our house is dark. Four years later and I still haven't fixed the lights properly. This was my idea of hell. 

    I tried lying on the bed, my only vantage point to view the entire room from on high, pushing my feet against the wall to try and move it into the middle of the room. It didn't budge. Its rather large. That meant I had to put my feet on the ground and move the thing away from the wall, hopefully giving this spawn of the devil less accessibility. 

    I had to put my feet back on the ground to move it. I then decided to change from long pyjama bottoms to shorts, which I did. But then, I'd left them lying on the side of the bath. I spent another ten minutes shaking everything out, and once sure that there was nothing in them, I put them on. I then inspected myself in the mirror, wandering if he was on me again - but this was difficult as I was eyeing the floor to see if he would come at me again. 

    Bed in the middle of the room, I sat there, looking around me for another half an hour. Jessie, my killer dog, had decided that outside was best this evening, and wouldn't come inside. Cady and Kita had watched my antics with amusement, and had done nothing when the bloody thing practically ran over them. 

    He never reappeared. Which means he's still in the house. I slept with the light on, and my broken Doom, a torch, and two plakkies next to me. I freaked every time a bug flew into me, looking for light. And now, in the rather hot light of day, I'm still too scared to sit with my feet on the ground or move to clean in case he reappears ...