I woke up and it was there. A lump I could feel in my throat, like something I had eaten was stuck halfway swallowed. It wasn't painful really, but I could feel it there. Constantly.

As the day continued, the feeling only got worse.

Now I'm in the bathroom, holding myself up because my legs are about to give out. Sweat is dripping from my forehead and I'm gasping for breath.

I attempt to angle my head so that I could see to the back of my throat. Not much luck, just a glimpse of something grey and slimy. I just had to get it out. If I could remove it, I would be fine.

Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I reach into my mouth. My eyes water as I fight the gag reflex. In no time I feel the tips of my fingers rub against the lump. I feel my esophagus contract as I fight to find purchase. Saliva runs down my chin and along my neck.

I got it! With a quick yank I pull the thing from my throat, only to find that it won't stop coming. I try to ignore the feeling of its thousands of teeny legs fighting against my fingers as I continue to pull its long body from deep within my body.

Without warning, pain shoots up my finger. It bit me and I feel pins and needles moving up my arm.

I panic and my teeth come down, filling my mouth with viscous fluid as it severed.

But it didn't die. I know this because, even though the piece in my hand stopped moving, I felt the rest of it crawl back down my throat.