The horror that I am referring to comes in the form of spiders, big black ones. You know the sort. They wear big black boots and biker jackets and ride around on miniature motorcycles. They have tattoos on each leg, and for some reason they seem inexplicably drawn to my bedroom. Actually, they seem inexplicably drawn to any room I am in at the time, providing I am alone in said room and completely defenceless.

One night, as I was just about to turn of my lamp and submit to sleep, I noticed out of the corner of my eye something grotesque, black and hairy, scurrying across my cream coloured carpet. At first I assumed that I had imagined it (as I so often do). But after a moment searching I saw it. I sat bolt upright in bed, my body tensed in fear. I could feel myself breaking out in a cold clammy sweat. In a pathetic attempt to distance myself from the beastie I stood tiptoe on the bed, body pressed against he wall.

I glanced down dizzy with fear. The spider looked up at me with a smug grin on its face. By now it had parked its motorbike and was taking a swig from a silver hip flask. It growled at me and I started to hyperventilate. Things were getting desperate. I needed to go to sleep, I was tired, ratty and now, crying as well.

The spider planted himself down on the floor, directly between my bedroom door and me. I didn’t have a glass anywhere, or anything else suitable for catching a spider in. I won’t kill bugs either and so I was stuck, completely. I took a few deep breaths and sat down on the bed, shaking like an idiot and reasoned with it to ‘Move away from the door’ and ‘put down your weapons’. At this point I remembered that it was a spider and therefore, didn’t have any weapons, but still it made the situation seem far less pathetic. The spider however, simply laughed and winked at me with four of his eight beady eyes. He was clearly reluctant to move which after a while became somewhat frustrating. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and pass out, preferably not through fear, but this (harmless) house spider was nearly as big as my head. Okay, maybe not my head, but my hand at least (okay I’m still exaggerating) and I couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t try to strangle me in my sleep.

So, I tried talking to him again, we talked for about ten minutes. It was a fairly one sided conversation during which I explained to him why it wasn’t very nice to creep into ladies bedrooms and how the polite thing to do would be to leave. He didn’t seem convinced.

Eventually after a lengthy debate he moved. He moved away from the door yes, but also towards me. I stifled a scream, not particularly wanting any of the neighbours to call the police (actually a part of me really did want that to happen but they’d only have laughed at me and probably been quite annoyed too). I once again jumped to my feet and stood at the back of the bed. Tears streaming down my face (yes I know it’s pathetic) and contemplated jumping onto the top of the wardrobe and sleeping there instead, but I decided it wouldn’t support my weight. Then the spider ran in the direction of my television, apparently he was ‘just messing about’ before when he charged at me.

So, now I had a clear run at the door. I took my chances, running faster than I have ever run before EVER. I almost jumped over my bedside table (just in case he decided to take another jump towards me), instead of clearing it though, I stubbed my toe against it and so, had to limp down the stairs whilst swearing and focusing on not peeing myself.

When I got downstairs I found a suitably large glass and tentatively made my way back to my room and set about finding the spider. After a little while, I spotted him crouching on the wire of my hairdryer. This made it impossible for me to attempt capture, since there was the very real possibility of him scurrying up my arm and onto my face or something, and so, I did the only thing I could do. I went back to bed. And I sat in my bed, clutching my knees, staring at the spider, crying to myself, and rocking backwards and forwards for…. 45 minutes, no exaggeration. I glanced over at the clock and realised I need to be awake again in only a few hours. It became evident that I would be spending the night with this spider whether I liked it or not and so, I gave him a name (Borris). I asked Borris to respect my wishes and not kill me while I was asleep. And then I slept like a baby for the rest of the night (only, without wetting the bed, quite amazing considering). I only woke up once, to the faint rumblings of a tiny motorbike leaving the area, and when the morning came, Borris was gone.