The Snake in the Bathroom.

I dumped my backpack gratefully on a couch and hastily took off all my clothes and went into the bathroom. There was something peculiar about it on that day. I sensed another presence in there. The will of another living creature, or something like it. I don’t think I was so much afraid as I was excited and curious. Then I saw it. There was a snake lying dormant on the floor, coiled around the base of the toilet. It was a wet, green, shiny thing, just laying there, I didn’t know if it was asleep or dead.

I have to admit I was quite scared. I’d encountered centipedes in my shoe, leeches on my ankle and bats in my washbasin, but never a snake coiled around my toilet. This one, unlike the others, was both poisonous and big (relative to the size of a 5 year old girl).

I flushed the toilet to create a din to see if it would stir, but it didn’t. I poured hot water over it, but it lay there, still as ever. I concluded that it must be dead. Reassured by this, I bent down to pick it up. I reached for the bit right behind the head, and picked it up in one quick, snappy movement, one hand tightly grasping the base of its skull, the other clutching it’s body mid-way.

The fucking thing wasn’t dead. It reared its head and threw its entire body into an epileptic fit. The thing was slippery, and my tiny hands couldn’t keep a secure grip on its trashing body. It twisted its head all the way around, and stretched its mouth wide open to reveal inch-long fangs and the dead white inner lining of its mouth.

My heart started racing. It all happened so fast I didn’t have time to be afraid. The seconds stretched out, and it felt like I had the time to take in the entire situation, in what I thought must have been an objective, rational manner. What-if became what-was in infinitely miniscule units of time. But still, it was undeniable, the sensation I had of knowing first, before telling myself what I needed to do. Even if it was only in that moment between comprehension and action.

I was extremely excited and confused; I know that the fear of snakes is an innate thing, and that the prey always knows its predator, even at an early age. But in that moment, I wasn’t sure. All I could do was take deep breaths and hold on, as tight as I possibly could.

Marilyn heard all the commotion and barged into the bathroom just as I felt the beast gripping hold my flesh and hypodermically injecting its venom into me. This made me let go of the creature quite suddenly and it recoiled back into an even darker, and wetter position behind the toilet.

It was then I realized I was kneeling on the slippery floor, hands pressed into my crotch, doubled over from this intensely powerful and slightly painful sensation flashing through my body.

Marilyn was a small woman, but she always seemed big to be then. She towered of me, arms folded, an expression that can only be described as hateful, etched upon her face. Her attention flickered back and forth between the garden hose and me. Water was still pouring out of its mouth but at a languishing pace, its coils restricting the velocity of the flow.