If I had known how terrible the night would be, I probably would have stayed inside. I can assure you that the events to come would be something I’d never forget, the insect, the pain, the sheer anxiety of the situation would be plastered into my memories until I took my last breath.It was a somber day, arriving home from fifth grade and working on a project left to be done until the night before, I was quite the studios ten year old. The night was windy and stormy, the black clouds pregnant with rain, loomed above your head like hungry vultures. Thunder wafted through the air softly, while subtle flashes of white light illuminated the horizon. It was quite odd indeed, no rain fell, and hundreds of disgusting brown beetles flew insanely within the heavy, humid air.“Emily, come look at the sky!” my father called to me through an open window. My attention immediately perked, I skipped down my hallway, through the dark kitchen and out onto our old wood deck. My father hung by the railing, examining the sky as if it were an ancient artifact. We both watched in silence, just because the air already seemed too thick to drench with empty words. By then I had noticed the beetles, buzzing around crazily, and with that note I, quite frankly, sighed uninterested and disgusted before walking back inside.Wandering through my unlit house, down the same dark hallway, I had preceded through, I was still completely unaware. I was so unaware that I jumped onto my mother and father’s bed with my brother to watch some television. It wasn’t until then that I felt a movement in my hair; it was the type of movement that you would think nothing of, and that was just what I did. Running my hand through my hair, I frisked the unknown movement away, until I felt it, the small little legs of the beast charging into my ear canal.I nearly fell off the bed, screaming, “Mom! Mom, there is something in my ear!” I sprinted down the hallway to where she was sitting, telling her to get it out, screaming at her that it hurt.She was quite calm about it, looking into my ear to see what I was complaining of, and saying “Everything will be ok, don’t worry. I don’t see anything.”I collapsed to the floor in pain, the insect was pressing full on against my ear, and I could hear it trying to dig straight through my ear drum. My mother finally looked to my father, “I’m bringing her to the Emergency Room.” She said, and that was that. Walking me to the car, the bug finally ceased movement, allowing me a few moments of freedom and relief.The sky was much brighter now, flashing every two or three seconds, the thunder clapped as if the sky itself was being ripped in two. This upset my new found friend, and even with a seat belt on I sunk further down, squealing in pain. Tears drenching my face, my mother had no idea what to do to help me, but just watch as I wedged myself between the dashboard and my seat.Once more the bug stopped with movement, surely tired as well, and I made it into the Emergency Room with no problem. My ear was sore, and it throbbed with pain, the foreign entity dwelling inside did nothing. We were immediately taken in, placed in a room with no wait or problems.The Emergency Room was, clearly, not one room, but an elongated hallway with blue curtains sectioning off “rooms”. It had plaster white walls, uncomfortable beds and a rancid, blood kind of smell.“Lie down, How long has she had this in her ear?” The doctor asked patiently, his cold hands grabbing my ear and peering through his otoscope.I winced in pained, listening as my mother answered thoughtfully, “About half an hour or so.” It was soon after that my doctor decided on a plan, to kill off the beetle, and then remove it. It all seemed quite easy, frank, and quick; but killing the beast was easier said than done. It took ten long, agonizing minutes, a bit of water and baby oil mixture and lying on my side. It wiggled unhappily inside of me, drowning to death, it’s legs thrashing against my already sore ear canal. I would flinch with every swift kick of my friend. I suppose that I could hear others, moaning out in pain, but I couldn’t. I don’t remember them; I just remember the lack of movement and the heaviness on my ear drum.The doctor came back, instructing me to turn over and drain the mixture, the beetle, dead now, still refused to remove itself. He decided on a high power water jet to remove it. For what reasons I do no know, but he proceeded to shoot my ear with it for a good five minutes until he couldn’t remove it and I was crying in pain. Finally he grabbed a pair of tweezers, nearly as long as my forearm, and told us what he was going to do.“I need you to lie completely still while I remove the beetle, ok?” My mother and I nodded and I lay flat on my side for him. His hands still chilling as they held my face steadily, the tweezers sliding carefully into my left ear; I could hear them clutching the carcass of the beetle, the satisfying feeling of the weight being lifted from my ear was heaven, and it was finally over.Holding it up for me to see, the brown beetle was as big as a cold pill, and the doctor joked asking if I wanted to keep it. I shook my head as best I could with my sore ear, and waited for them to fill out paperwork. I was given ear drops and we were able to leave, making it home at eleven that night. I can clearly remember that I was allowed to eat a ice pop we had just gotten from the food store, and the next morning I went into school late.The drops were prescribed for one week, and I had to sleep with them in, even the light weight of the fluid pained my tender ear. After that incident, I had never felt pain to that degree, and I will never forget the sheer pain it brought me. Every night I sleep with a pillow over my left ear, and I flinch away from any kind of flying bugs, always making sure they haven’t entered my hair to torture me endlessly like my beetle had.Some days, for story telling purposes, I wish I had kept him. Just to show the object that put me in so much pain, and changed my life. I am glad that I didn’t though, he wasn’t worth all of that pain.
