Roachborn

Cyrene

Roachborn

EP:1 The Nocturnes

One fine chilly morning, I woke up to the loud ringing of my phone. Receiving calls isn’t really my thing but I don’t want to send it to voicemail for her and I know she will get upset over it and continue to suck my brain for the next couple of months. So I lazily picked up the call. “Goooooood morninngggg” she exclaimed excitedly. 

It gave me more motivation to get up from bed, and look around. My room is a mess right now and I probably squished my seal flushie underneath me. I think its time to get him a mate. Sunlight flooded every corner of my room as I noticed Ragnar tumbling to the floor, with a roach perched on its beak. “Oh my God, did she really send a roach after me?” 

I brushed off the thought and responded to her good morning with the same enthusiasm. She started telling me how her hair wouldn’t straighten, probably because she had damaged them a lot. I know she tends to rant a lot, but I think I’m starting to get used to her rants now. “What’s up?” I asked her, to inquire about the reason of her call. She sounded oddly cheerful, and I could sense the danger. Her cheerful mood usually meant my impending misery. I could almost see her eyes sparkling as she continued speaking. “I have something to tell you, but I hope you won’t refuse. I know you won’t, because you can’t, and I really need to do this!” she exclaimed excitedly. The eagerness in her voice for whatever she had in mind was so intriguing that I couldn’t resist. “Yeah, anything for you, but what is it?”

“Well, don’t you trust me?” I knew she was batting her eyes like an innocent puppy behind the phone, so I reassured her just how much I trust her, even though I was aware she was up to something mischievous. How could she not be? She was born this way—to create chaos. I enjoy chaos. I couldn’t press her any further to tell me what she wanted me to do; instead, she simply instructed me on how I needed to visit her next week.

I trust her. Should I? I don’t know! But my heart tells me to trust her. I headed out to get my iced Americano and take a short walk to admire the cherry blossoms. It’s lovely weather, and I don’t want to miss my chance to send her pictures of those pretty cherry blossoms that remind me of her. Although I tell her otherwise, I mention how the most unusual things in the universe remind me of her because I know it teases her, and I love teasing people. But I’m not a bad person in this story! At least not this time.

It’s the 20th of April, 8 AM, and I’m taking the metro to make sure I arrive on time. She was very specific about punctuality, and I definitely don’t want to ruin her mood. I think my gallery is currently running short on pictures of my dog, which I usually send her to cheer her up when I mess up sometimes. I finally reach around 8:50 and spot her standing outside a facility with plain white walls. There aren’t many people around, just a few spiders weaving their delicate webs in the corners. As I walk towards her, I can see her eyes sparkle with excitement.

“You’re finally here!! I’m so excited, and I can’t explain in words how much I’ve been looking forward to this!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. The anticipation in the air is palpable, and I can’t help but smile, feeling the same thrill as she does.

She is cute—dangerously cute. How did I not realize that it was clearly a trap?

We stepped inside, and I was immediately struck by the spacious hall. The high ceilings made the room feel even larger, and the walls were adorned with abstract art that added a splash of color to the otherwise minimalist decor. In the center of the hall, there was a long table surrounded by numerous chairs, each one perfectly arranged as if waiting for an important gathering. The table was set with vibrant decorations, including flowers in elegant vases and neatly placed name cards, hinting at the significance of the occasion. As I took it all in, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had walked into something much bigger than I had anticipated.

“Sit down, let me make you your iced Americano,” she said with a warm smile before heading towards the kitchen. She is truly kind and caring; she always looks out for me, and I know she’s incredibly thoughtful. She understands just how much I rely on my iced Americano in the mornings to kickstart my day. 

As I watch her happily preparing the drink, I can hear her softly humming her favorite song—it’s a catchy tune from the Bangtan Boys, of course. The rich aroma of the brewing coffee fills the air, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing, and I realize I’m already feeling more relaxed and happier. There’s something so delightful about seeing the girl you like, so full of excitement, preparing coffee just for you. It’s appears to be very simple moment, but it feels special, like a little glimpse of joy that makes the day seem brighter.

She handed me the coffee and offered me some cookies to which I politely declined. I took a sip of the coffee, and it tasted exquisite. With another sip, I suddenly noticed the little bobas floating inside. I looked at her, puzzled. “Did you make me a boba coffee?” I asked jokingly. 

“Yes! Don’t you like it? It’s my new recipe. I’ve been practicing it for so long to make it taste just right for you,” she replied, her excitement shining through her innocent expression. I found myself starting to enjoy the coffee even more now. I could feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I felt ready for whatever surprises she was planning to throw at me.

At that moment, I truly believed I was.

She is sitting in front of me with her hands resting on her lap and eyes gazing at me. She wants to say something but I think she is waiting for my coffee to end. “Tell me, I’m listening to what you’re going to do to me”  I told her.

“Oh, I just wanted you to taste my boba coffee!” She said smiling. 

I was puzzled. Was it my lucky day? Is this all? I wanted to question her more but who knows my questioning might put some evil thoughts in her mind so I just called it a day for my questions. 

We continued to talk for a couple of hours. We talk about some of the nicest things that others don’t talk about. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and the occasional pause as we savored our drinks. It felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but the connection we were building, and I cherished every moment of it. It’s afternoon so we headed out to eat something. 

We decided to order Tacos since we both have a fondness for Mexican food, and I had promised her Tacos and Banana milk earlier. However, my stomach felt a bit uneasy, so I only managed to eat a few Tacos. The rich taste of coffee still lingered in my mouth, and I realized it might have been a bit too strong for my palate. Despite that, I appreciated the way she prepared my coffee; it had a unique flavor that I found intriguing. I made a mental note to ask her to make it again next time.

As for the boba in the coffee, they were delightfully chewy, soft, and flavorful. Each sip was a little stronger; they had a plain yet slightly sour taste, with a liquidy texture that added an interesting element to the drink. It was a combination that I didn’t expect but thoroughly enjoyed.

It was getting dark so she headed back home, telling me that I needed to take care of myself and that she was worried about me. I really like how she cares about me. She is so differently nice. Later that day she kept on texting me asking about how I was and whether I ate well or not. I was touched by her concern and genuineness. 

At night we said goodbyes and I went to sleep. She came to see me daily for breakfast, and I know how much she loves breakfast time of the day so I accompanied her for a week before she was leaving for Malaysia. 

My stomach has been a bit sensitive lately, so I’ve been hesitant to eat much. However, she has been there with me for most of my meals, encouraging me to eat all three meals of the day. It’s hard to resist when she’s around, especially since she always makes our meals feel special and most of all, fun!

Even though I wasn’t feeling my best, her presence made the experience enjoyable. She would often suggest different types of cuisines, and her enthusiasm for food made me more willing to try things, even if I didn’t have much of an appetite. I appreciated her efforts to make sure I was eating, and it felt nice to share those moments with her, even if I had to take it easy on my portions. Each meal was not just a meal but a plate full of memories, and her caring nature made it easier for me to navigate through my discomfort.

It was Wednesday when I stepped out of the shower and began searching for my hoodie. I was certain I had taken it out of the closet, but it was nowhere to be found. After searching for a while, I finally sat down on the floor, breathless, and looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed that I had gained quite a bit of belly fat lately, likely from eating three meals a day with her. My stomach resembled a ball now, rolling around as I shifted.

As I continued to examine myself, my eyes finally caught sight of the hoodie lying on the floor, hidden beneath Ragnar. I realized how forgetful I had been lately. I leaned down to grab the hoodie, but suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over me. I felt like I was going to throw up. Something was definitely off with my stomach, and I knew I needed to see a doctor. I had been putting it off for too long, but now it felt urgent. I put on my hoodie and headed out, but dizziness and nausea hit me again, so I decided to stay inside for the day.

I ended up throwing up twice and sleeping for nearly the entire day. When I finally woke up, my phone was beeping with a message. It was from her: “I’ve left your favorite salad outside; don’t forget to eat.” My stomach growled at the thought. It was a vibrant salad filled with fresh greens, juicy cherry tomatoes, crisp cucumbers, and creamy avocado slices, all drizzled with a tangy vinaigrette. I could almost taste the zesty flavor just thinking about it. I eagerly devoured it, savoring every bite. Each forkful was a burst of energy filling in my body, and it felt like a warm hug from her. It was from my favorite place and sent by my favorite person—how could I resist?

Friday arrived quickly, and I found myself overwhelmed with chores and studies, leaving me no time to visit a doctor. My stomach had been feeling quite heavy, but I kept pushing the discomfort aside. 

That night, around 4 a.m., I suddenly woke up from my sleep, jolted by a strong sensation in my stomach that felt like a kick. The pain was intense, and it completely robbed me of my rest. As I sat up, dizziness washed over me, making it difficult to focus. I could almost sense the chaos inside me, as if bacteria were swirling around, causing turmoil. I couldn’t help but regret all the junk food I had indulged in lately. Each bite now felt like a poor choice, and I was acutely aware of the consequences. The discomfort was a harsh reminder of my eating habits, and I realized I needed to take my health more seriously.

I got out of bed and went to grab banana milk from the refrigerator when I realised I accidentally stepped on something.  It was so dark that I couldn’t see what it was and I felt so lazy to check but my heart felt like sinking. I started feeling that something bad has happened I turned on the light to see a little cockroach smashed and lying on the floor. I am extremely afraid of cockroaches, those who know me know this so well. I knew I was supposed to be icky, but instead I felt so much pain towards the deceased creature. My heart was exploding with the pain of being the murderer of this little creature who was lying on the floor  helpless. Those who knows me know that I don’t care about the wellbeing of a roach to this extent, or at all! I was so upset by its death that I took him or her i am not sure yet, about the gender but it doesn’t really matter these days anyway. I put it inside the match box to make a tiny coffin. 

I really need to see her tomorrow to get a ribbon from her. She have all different sorts of ribbons and I think I need to tie it on the coffin to honour the deceased. I put the matchbox inside the refrigerator so that the body doesn’t rot or smell. I think others might be coming after him and I need to show them that he is in a better place now and treated well. Despite  the extreme burden and guilt weighing on my chest, I kept on reassuring myself that it was an accident. I was also confused deep down on my unconditional love towards a roach because that kind of thing never happened. I hope by honouring him with a ribbon I find peace amidst the chaos.

I went back to sleep without having banana milk because I blame it for causing the tragic death of an innocent roachy. I am not going to drink it anymore. It made me a murderer and every time I will see it, it will remind me of the deceased. My stomach still felt really heavy but that wasn’t the only thing which was heavy, now my chest was heavier. From the feeling of loss, pain and as if I betrayed a loved one, I couldn’t sleep the whole night. The next morning I told her about it, first thing in the morning. I called her and told her how I caused a death. She sounded so worried but I could feel she was distracted and lost in her own thoughts.

She tried to comfort me, but it was of no use. I continued to feel upset and needed to make things right. While I was on a call with her, I suddenly felt so dizzy that I thought I was going to collapse. I told her about my situation, and there was a moment of silence. Then, she broke the silence with her words: “I think it’s time.” I was shocked to hear her remarks; I didn’t expect her to anticipate my death so casually, as if it was something she had been waiting for. I felt heartbroken, and the feeling of betrayal consumed me. The heartbreak affected me so deeply that I could feel vibrations in my stomach. I couldn’t take it any longer and started crying, wailing loudly. I felt my stomach tightening and pressure building up. I didn’t know what to do. She was still on the phone with me, and she reassured me, “Hang in there, I’m coming!”

I was in so much pain, and the pressure on my stomach was worsening. I couldn’t take it any longer, and I think I wet myself. I was surprised by how this happened, but I didn’t care much because the pain continued and it was unbearable.

In the next two minutes, she arrived, carrying a box that looked like a first aid kit. I felt so embarrassed that she saw me in this condition—lying on the floor in pain and covered in my own urine. However, what relieved me was the absence of judgment in her eyes; all I saw was genuine concern. 

“I think your water broke!” she exclaimed as she rushed toward me. Her voice was filled with urgency, and I could see the worry etched on her face. She quickly knelt beside me, ready to help, and I could feel a sense of comfort in her presence despite the overwhelming situation.

I was so blank and shocked that words couldn’t describe what I was feeling. What does she mean? My waters are just fine. I couldn’t process her words. 

She pulled a towel from the box and spread it on the floor underneath me. “Look, it’s going to hurt a little, but you will be fine. Trust me!” she said, looking directly into my eyes and trying to reassure me. Her gaze was steady and filled with determination, and I could see that she was ready to support me through whatever was happening. Despite my confusion and fear, her presence gave me a glimmer of hope. 

In that moment, I felt a surge of determination. Yes, I can do this! As long as she is around, I feel so empowered that I can accomplish anything.

I didn’t fully understand what she meant, but all I knew was that I needed this pain to end. So, I surrendered myself to her care. She handed me a liquid and instructed me to drink it, and I complied without hesitation. 

Then, she took out a syringe—a large one with a very sharp, thick needle. My heart raced at the sight of it, and a small shriek escaped my lips as fear washed over me. I felt my strength fade, and I collapsed, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

I woke up after what felt like an eternity, and the room still appeared very blurry. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust my vision. As I began to look around, I noticed her sitting nearby, carefully holding something in her hand. When she saw that I was awake, a warm smile spread across her face, instantly easing some of my anxiety. Her presence was comforting, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me as I tried to gather my thoughts. 

I felt a burning sensation deep within my genital, as if air was making its way inside me, creating an uncomfortable pressure. The feeling was different and unsettling, causing me to squirm slightly. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on calming myself, but the sensation was hard to ignore. It was as if my body was reacting in ways I couldn’t fully understand, leaving me both confused and anxious about what was happening. I felt there was a difference  but I couldn’t tell what exactly. 

“What is going on?” I inquired weakly as I tried to sit up. She helped me raise myself but instructed me to keep my legs straight; otherwise, it might hurt. I kept my legs spread on the floor, and it felt as though I had a terrible rash. The skin was irritated and sensitive, almost as if it were on fire. I could feel a prickling sensation that made me shift uncomfortably. Every slight movement seemed to amplify the discomfort, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had caused this sudden reaction. The room felt too hot, and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead as I tried to focus on anything other than the burning sensation. I took a deep breath again, hoping it would help ease the irritation, but nothing seemed to work. 

“You did a good job!” she said, giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. I was still confused, so she handed me a tiny creature wrapped in soft, pink-coloured tissue paper. 

“It identifies itself as a boy,” she said with a smile. I leaned forward to peek at the little creature and was taken aback to find a roach wrapped in the vibrant tissue, smiling up at me. It was much bigger than the one I had accidentally stepped on the night before.

My eyes widened in disbelief, and I felt a rush of questions flood my mind. I needed an explanation, but my head was throbbing, so I laid back down, staring at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had just happened.

I think it was the first flashback. I could see a cascade of bobas tumbling out of me, slipping through the air with the vibrant blue liquid swirling around. Suddenly, one of them bursts, sending a splash of color everywhere, creating a chaotic yet oddly interesting scene. The moment felt surreal, as if time slowed down, and I couldn’t help but watch this happening to me like I was watching a movie. 

A roach crawls out of it and then more and more crawls their way out of me and from those bobas. 

What was I seeing? Is this another delusion? A nightmare? 

Or did I.. did I gave birth to a roach.

“You gave birth to a roach!! My experiment is successful!” my train of thoughts breaks with her voice touching my ears. 

It makes so much sense now that I reflect on it. The duration of my pregnancy brought with it feelings of nausea and heaviness, along with a heightened sensitivity to different smells. Those midnight cravings for sweet, bitter, or sour foods were intense, and I found myself fixated on banana milk to satisfy those urges. Everything is falling into place. When that roach died under my feet, my heart felt heavy—not just from the shock, but from the rush of oxytocin and that deep maternal instinct to protect. It all ties together. 

But there she is happy as ever. Her eyes are sparkling and shining as bright as ever. My wall of thoughts falls brick by brick. 

Did I achieve something big?  Or lost something way bigger? 

I wanted to create a family with her, and when I told her that, I couldn’t have been happier when she agreed. Little did I know that what she meant by “family” was something entirely different—a creature I never imagined giving my love to, not knowing I’ll be a mother. 

As I lay there, I watched her prepare yet another large needle,  to puncture my nipple to feed the newborn. 

We believe that when God gives us something in the most odd times, it’s considered a gift—a child is the mercy of God. But what if that gift shows up as a cockroach, the most peculiar and often misunderstood creature? Imagine this tiny, sensitive being, so fragile that one big stomp could send it to the great good heavens! 

I would like to believe that this cockroach is actually the reincarnation of a legendary warrior from the insect kingdom that I stomped upon that day and today gave birth to.  It might not look like much, maybe it has a crooked antenna and an oddly shaped body—but it carries the wisdom of ages. Despite its appearance, it embodies resilience and survival.  

But imagine me trying to protect this delicate creature, treating it like royalty. I will build a tiny fortress out of shoeboxes, complete with a throne made of bottle caps, all while whispering prayers for its safety. With every little mishap, they worry that a simple sneeze or a gust of wind could send my precious child flying into the abyss.

I have a roach to feed now and I don’t know if she will help me co parent or not!

Author: AlfredRichard

AlfredRichard