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When my best friend called asking if I could stay at her apartment for a few days while she traveled for work, I didn’t hesitate.
“It’ll save you money on your commute,” she said. “Besides, someone should keep an eye on the place.”
Her apartment was in one of the oldest buildings downtown—a beautiful brick complex built nearly a century ago. The rent was cheap, the rooms were spacious, and although everything looked a little worn, it had plenty of character.
When I arrived, she handed me the keys.
“Everything’s clean,” she said. “Just ignore the squeaky floors.”
I laughed.
“I’ve lived in worse.”
The first evening was peaceful.
I ordered takeout, watched a movie, and fell asleep on the guest bed without thinking twice.
Around three in the morning, I woke up scratching my ankle.
I figured a mosquito had somehow gotten inside.
I scratched for a minute, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
The next morning I noticed three tiny red bumps near my foot.
“Definitely mosquitoes,” I muttered.
I covered them with a little anti-itch cream and headed to work.
That evening I returned to the apartment feeling exhausted.
Again, everything seemed perfectly normal.
I showered, climbed into bed, and fell asleep almost instantly.
This time I woke up several times during the night.
My legs itched.
Then my arms.
Even my shoulders felt irritated.
Half asleep, I kept scratching without really thinking about it.
The following morning I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and froze.
There weren’t three bumps anymore.
There were dozens.
Tiny red spots covered my calves.
More stretched across my thighs.
A few dotted my wrists.
Some were beginning to swell.
I texted my friend.
“Hey… weird question.”
“What’s up?”
“Do you have mosquitoes in your apartment?”
She replied almost immediately.
“No. Why?”
I sent her a picture.
She didn’t answer for nearly ten minutes.
Finally my phone buzzed.
“Oh no…”
“What?”
“I forgot to tell you something.”
My stomach dropped.
“The previous tenant complained about bugs.”
“What kind of bugs?”
“They thought they had bed bugs.”
I stared at my phone.
“You THOUGHT?”
“The landlord hired someone to inspect. They said they didn’t find anything.”
That answer didn’t make me feel any better.
I stripped the sheets off the bed.
At first I saw nothing unusual.
Then I lifted the mattress.
Tiny black dots lined one corner.
Near the seam was something small, flat, and brown.
I took a picture and searched online.
My heart sank.
It looked exactly like the photos of bed bugs.