You name it, I've killed it.

That's wildly exaggerating, of course. But the fact remains. Others could also have had their doors open, their windows open, but yet, they always come to me. They? Insects, that is. Insects, bugs, winged things, monsters, things. Beetles (I almost typed Beatles. Gee.), moths, cockroaches. Ant invasions, especially the recent one (kill them all!). Bee (Thanks Jarren for saving the night; and Serene for just, just being a fellow 'victim'). Praying mantis (No thanks to roomie, who slept soundly throughout my whole ordeal; yes, it was a whole ordeal). Bee (Again. That is, about 45 mins ago).
At least, I think it was a bee. It was just bee-looking, but slim and long, and winged, and sort of wriggly. I was freaked out for a while, but since it refused to exit by the wide-opened door, it had to die. And die, it did. I shall not fail to mention that I was, again, made to go through the whole ordeal by myself. No thanks to r*****, who had conveniently gone out to study; and was unable to help me whatsoever (I had appealed for help over sms). Oh well, I killed it anyway, so the matter's closed.

That was supposed to be the end, but I can't help noticing that it was weird to thank someone for being a fellow 'victim'. Sounded strangely sadistic. Heh. It's 3am, and post-bee-killing, so I'm not going to attempt to find a better word. The end.