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I’ve become familiar with the strangeness of living here.

Image Credit: Cynthia Loh

Creaky mismatched floorboards. The oak and pine glimmered from the lacquered surface — the resin so thick it became like mucus in the moonlight. I walked into our dining room, carrying turmeric-stained plates towards our kitchen, fumbling for the light switch. I nearly trip, forgetting that there was a step. I’ve always been a bit clumsy — or is it just the quirks of this century-old terrace?

I’ve become familiar with the strangeness of living here.

Rubbing shoulders with cockroaches the size of my palm that sneak through the gaps of our doors and windows. They were often trapped in the little crevices of our home. Mortein became a regular item in our shopping trolley. A single spray blasts the little creatures across the room, knocking them off the doorframe which they were scuttling on. They land on their back with an audible hiss — their hair-covered limbs immediately begin to flail. A frantic taptaptaptaptap echoed through the loungeroom as they struggled to take their last breath, their hardened bodies thrashing against the wood, right before silence fell. We often heard whisperings of burglars looting our neighbours for their heirlooms. I think about how A, my housemate, always shrieked when she saw one of our friendly house guests. There’s a running joke that if there were a home invasion, myself and E would dismiss her cries, thinking it was nothing more than those six-legged fiends.

Regaining my step, I looked down and strained my eyes, adjusting to the light. I tried to distinguish the grains from the swirls embedded into our floors. A small ridge masks itself amongst the chaos. For the first time, I see. Is this real? Is this a trap? I saw a hatch embedded into the planks. A dull lever revealed itself.

I reached out to touch it.

I always wondered how the cockroaches got into our home. I can recall people scoffing at the pests on Glenmore Road — sneering at their measly existence. Their darling Cavalier getting tutted at when trying to approach the bug. A harsh tug on the leash. An aggressive bark. Eyebrows furrowing. Growing wrinkles on a pure linen shirt.

Panicked, the creature scuttles away. Away, and away, into the cracks.