Won′t still let me be

I was disturbed last night by a relentless buzzing, the familiar sound of mosquitoes on the prowl. No matter how many times I swatted, turned on fans, or used repellent, those persistent insects seemed to always find a way to bother me. I had made up my mind that enough was enough; I needed a more potent solution. As soon as the morning light filtered through my window, I headed out to buy an insecticide.

After a trip to the store, I had the insecticide in hand. I followed the instructions carefully and sprayed it throughout my room before retiring for the night. I decided to give the room some time to clear of fumes, standing outside for a while and patiently waiting for the action to take place. Finally, when I returned to my room, I felt confident that I could finally enjoy a mosquito-free evening.

However, as night fell, I was awakened by the familiar hum of mosquitoes. In disbelief, I turned on my flashlight, hoping to catch a glimpse of my adversaries, but there was nothing to be seen. I found myself questioning whether I was simply on the verge of numbness to the bites or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Perhaps, after battling with mosquitoes for so long, I no longer recognized the sensation of my skin being left untouched and the bites themselves. It seemed I could no longer differentiate between being bitten and simply the feeling of being preyed upon by the small, relentless pests so accustomed to bugging me.