I see it as soon as I lift my eyes off the computer screen. It's there, on the wall, close to the ceiling, looking at me. It wants to make sure I feel like prey as it stays there, unmoving.

My heart rate increases, and I can feel my breath getting heavy and ragged. Heat crawls up my spine and nests in my neck, and that's when I know panic settled in.

That thing moves, just to make a point of the fact that it's real, there, and moving. A big threat that came for me, now crawling to the ceiling.

I can already see it in my mind, letting itself fall on me, its filthy, venomous fangs piercing my flesh; so in an instinctive response, I jump off my chair and back away from this evil presence in my ceiling, which is now crawling menacingly down the wall to my left.

"Daaaaad!?" I call hesitant, just to be sure, because I know I'm home alone. That filthy thing just reached the floor next to the chair I was sitting in, and now it's standing there, daring me to get close.

It moves one of its legs, making me flinch. I feel trapped in here, helpless. I start considering backup plans to get out of this horrible dilemma. I could jump out the window, but I'm on the second floor. What if I break a leg and this thing comes down and eats me? I think the closet, but that's the worst idea. I would only be more trapped.

"Dad, are you home!?" I try again, well aware that no, dad's not home. "I need some help here, please!"

But my plead dies young. And that's when the evil creature crawls under the door and leaves my room.

Am I safe?

I hesitate before attempting to move. What if it's just a trap, and it crawls back inside when I reach the door? What if it just wants to trick me into thinking I'm safe? What should I do? Risk it? Stay here and wait?

What if I sit here and that filthy creature comes back in? That's when a car parks in our driveway. It's dad's car, there's no mistaking the sound of that engine. Relief washes over me as I throw my window open.

"Dad! Please, come help me! There's some ugly beast from hell in the aisle, so get rid of it!"

He closes the car's door in slow motion, considering my words. He gives me a surprised look as he thinks it over and over, without reaction. But I don't have time for that. "Hurry, already! What if it comes back into my room?"

And that's when he makes a move to get inside. I wish I had told him to be careful, but now's too late for that.

It takes him several weeks to reach my room; weeks in which I gobble down my own nerves and despair. I decide to grab a weapon in case dad fails, somehow. But I have nothing that could protect me from such evil. Nevertheless, despite my better judgment, I pull off one of my shoes. Give it something to dodge at least as I make a run for my life.

And all too suddenly, the door flies open and I scream in horror, because it's here, and it wants my soul!

"There's nothing here, honey."

Dad's voice. He's still alive, somehow.

"There's no way it's not there." I say, mustering the courage to finally look up. And that's when I see my father under the doorframe. And that evil thing from the deepest catacombs of Oblivion is clawing its way up his jeans. My screams of horror fill the house; my dad is going to die! And then he notices.

"You mean this little spider?" And as he says that, he reaches down with his bare fingers and picks the bastard from its bulgy butt. It thrashes and turns, trying to get free from dad's grasp, its many limbs moving like twigs under a rough wind. "I'll take it outside. It's okay now."

And he leaves with that thing still trapped in his fingers. And I'm finally safe again.