After my childhood friend's exotic pet shop went out of business, he insisted on giving me a black king snake. He swore up and down that the snake was beautiful, docile, and easy to care for.

I looked at the little snake, who had just escaped from his terrarium for the hundredth time, and sighed in frustration. I wasn't so sure about the beautiful, docile, and easytocarefor part.

But I was pretty sure he was a few scales short of a full shed. The snake was staring at me again.

I walked out of the kitchen with a glass of water to find him coiled around the potted plant, his tiny head peeking out from between the leaves, flicking his tongue as he watched me. When I moved left, his head tilted left.

When I moved right, his head tilted right. When I went into the study, he slithered down from the plant and followed me silently. To be honest, I wasn't particularly interested in snakes.

I didn't find them scary, but I didn't find them beautiful either.

I took him in because my friend, Alex, had told me snakes didn't need companionship or walks, and only ate once every ten days or so, making them incredibly lowmaintenance. "He won't bite me, will he?" I had asked. "How can he bite you if you keep him in the tank?

Besides, black king snakes are very docile; they rarely bite. And even if he does, it hurts less than a mosquito bite." Alex and I had been friends for twenty years. I trusted him. I got the tank, the food, and the heat lamp, just as he'd instructed.

But the snake only stayed in the carefully prepared tank for the first day. After that, he was constantly escaping. No matter what I did, no matter how tightly I sealed the tank, he always found a way out.

Then he would patrol his new territory, slithering across my desk, through my closet, and over my sofa. One day, I came home from work to find a shed skin on my bed.

He was coiled on my pillow, and when he saw me, he flicked his tongue, as if to say, "Hello, human. This is a gift for you." I casually put the shed skin in a box. That night, as I rolled over in my sleep, I felt something strange beneath me.

Groggy, I lifted the covers to find the snake wrapped around my thigh, his head resting on my hip bone. When he saw I was awake, he slithered up my body, wrapped himself around my shoulders, and finally settled his head in the crook of my neck.

He gave a little flick of his tail, satisfied.

2 Something was definitely off with this snake. A human's body temperature is around 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, but a snake's comfortable temperature is closer to 89.6 degrees. For a snake, a human body should be an inhospitable environment.

I put him back in his tank and closed the lid. Just to be safe, I placed a heavy object on top. "This is your home. You can't use me as your bed, you understand?" I told him seriously.

The snake restlessly circled the tank, as if looking for a way to escape. He bumped his head against the lid. He seemed a little dizzy, so he rested for a moment before trying again.

His persistence made me wonder if maybe the tank was uncomfortable for him. I checked it again, and to be extra sure, I even reached inside to test the temperature.

And that's when the snake seized his opportunity, immediately wrapping himself around my wrist. I ignored him and continued to inspect the tank. The temperature control was fine; both the cool and warm zones were at the right temperature.

The water dish had just been changed. The hiding spots were clean. The tank was big enough. I couldn't find anything wrong. I even called Alex to ask. In the end, I came to one conclusion. This snake was a bit of an idiot.

To put it bluntly, he was developmentally challenged.

3 I let the snake stay wrapped around my hand and began to think seriously. Snakes are notoriously unintelligent. They don't form emotional bonds and don't recognize their owners.

Even if they live with their owner day in and day out, they at most see them as a harmless tree trunk. I stared at the snake's head, studying it closely. His head was so small, he wasn't very bright to begin with.

And now, he had been diagnosed as the village idiot of the snake world. How did he even grow this big?

Alex had said this snake was particularly docile, never roamed around, and always stayed in his tank, making him very easy to care for, which was why he gave him to me. I seriously suspected that the snake had been switched on the way here.

The snake lay in my palm, and when he noticed I was close, he flicked his tongue at me. It brushed against my lips. A very light touch. But his pupils instantly dilated, and he suddenly looked aggressive. I knew this was bad.

I was about to back away when he shot towards me like a bolt of lightning— He wrapped himself around my neck, his body slithering, his tongue flicking against my mouth again and again. He seemed fascinated by the sensation, touching me over and over.

I didn't dare move. For the first time, I had a clear understanding of a snake's attack speed. He played for a long time, and finally, probably tired, he didn't leave.

He just stayed wrapped around me, comfortably lying on my shoulder, and fell asleep. The next morning, I woke up and found a small cut on my lower lip while brushing my teeth. On closer inspection, there were two tiny wounds with dried blood on them.

It didn't take a genius to know who the culprit was. The snake slithered over again.

He pushed open the halfclosed bathroom door with his head, wrapped himself around my calf, and climbed up, finally tying himself in a knot on my shoulder and staying still. He seemed to have adopted my shoulder and neck as his new home. I sighed.

Well, he was just a mentally challenged snake with a combat power of negative five. I guess I could handle him.

4 The snake and I became inseparable. If I was working in the study, he had to be there. If I was leaving for work, he had to come too. Most of the time, he acted like an idiot.

It was only when I told him he couldn't come with me that I realized he did have a little bit of intelligence. Specifically, no matter how much I refused, he would ignore me and cling to me stubbornly.

How was I supposed to explain to him that I couldn't take him out? Even though he was a mentally challenged snake who wouldn't even hurt if he bit, most people were afraid of snakes.

If I brought him with me, he would be happy, but everyone else would suffer. After finding him in my pocket, my briefcase, and my hoodie, I had no choice but to apply for remote work. The snake was satisfied. That night, he gave me another shed skin.

I put it in the same box as the other one and went into the bathroom with my pajamas. Amidst the sound of the shower, I leaned against the wall, my eyes slightly closed, making sure to wash every part of my body.

I'd been single since breaking up with my boyfriend two years ago. But I never neglected myself. I loved to please myself in the shower; it made cleanup easier. A tingling sensation spread through my calf.

I opened my eyes to find that the snake had somehow snuck in again. The only time he wasn't clinging to me was when I was showering. The water temperature was too high for him.

Even an idiot knew to run when it got uncomfortable. "Get out of here before you get cooked," I said, not even bothering to rinse off. With my hands still slick, I tried to grab him and get him out. The snake refused.

It was as if he was seeing my body for the first time, noticing how different it was from his. He coiled himself at the base of my thighs, his head raised, staring intently at the part of a woman that is uniquely hers. The next second, he went inside.

5 My life had never been this chaotic. I knew this snake wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I never imagined he'd be foolish enough to try and explore everywhere. "Get out, now! My tastes aren't that... adventurous.

I'm not into interspecies romance!" I gritted my teeth, trying to pull him out. But he seemed addicted, wriggling deeper and deeper… I gasped, my body tensing up.

It took every ounce of my strength, but I finally managed to pull him out and lock him in his tank. Of course, the tank couldn't hold him for long. But if I couldn't fight him, couldn't I at least run?

I changed my clothes, booked a hotel, and fled my apartment without a second thought. That night, I had an... unspeakable dream. In it, I was entwined with a massive, pitchblack python, a dizzying mix of icy cold and searing heat.

When I woke up, I buried my face in my hands, burning with shame. Oh no. Had I been single for so long that I'd actually become a pervert? No, no, I was a normal person. The pervert was that idiot snake.

I grabbed my phone, intending to check the security camera footage to see if the snake had behaved himself after I left. Instead, I found my building's group chat in an uproar.

At least nine out of ten residents on my floor were saying they'd seen a snake in their apartment last night. I clicked on the pictures in the chat and leaped out of bed in shock. Wasn't that my idiot snake? Whose apartment had he gotten into?

The chat was still buzzing with messages, demanding an explanation from the property management and asking them to call animal control immediately. I couldn't stay in bed any longer. I jumped up, ready to rush home.

But as I threw back the covers— There he was, coiled up like a pile of... well, you know, sleeping soundly at the foot of my bed.

His scales shimmered with a rainbow of colors under the lamplight, and the tip of his tail twitched contentedly from time to time, the very picture of a wellfed and satisfied creature. Alarm bells went off in my head.

I had booked the closest hotel for convenience, but it was still a twentyminute drive from my place. How could a snake pinpoint my exact hotel and room, and then sneak in without a sound? I checked the group chat again.

Okay, so maybe not "without a sound." But still, this whole thing defied all scientific logic. My horrified stare must have woken him. He yawned, and I could even see the pink, fleshy membrane inside his mouth twitching. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Snakes don't yawn for social reasons; they do it to prepare for eating, shedding, or scentmarking. Or mating. I think I might be going crazy.

Because the first thought that popped into my head was: Interspecies romance… there’s reproductive isolation, right?

6 I returned the snake to Alex. And I firmly stated that I would never own a snake again. Alex was shocked when he saw the snake. He praised me for being a snakerearing genius, saying the snake had grown so much in such a short time.

I hadn't noticed him getting bigger, since we were together all the time. For once, the snake was lying quietly in his tank, flicking his tongue as he watched me. "How many more reptiles do you have? Can you fit them all in your place?

Do you need me to help you rent a bigger apartment?" I silently convinced myself that, after all these years of friendship, I should help Alex if he was in trouble.

It had absolutely nothing to do with being worried that the snake wouldn't have enough space to move around. "No need. I made some money from my job recently." Alex waved his hand dismissively. "I'm already looking at storefronts for a new studio.

I'm getting back in the business." I had to admit, Alex's love for exotic pets ran deep. The snake would definitely have a better life with him than with me. I was worrying for nothing. As I was leaving, I couldn't help but glance back at the snake.

He had propped himself up against the side of the tank, his eyes fixed on me. It was as if he was saying, "Human, you can't escape." Startled, I quickly looked away, tightening my grip on my purse. Alex lived more than ten miles away.

There was no way he could find his way back to my place. I told myself that snakes don't have feelings. All the signs I thought were him liking me and being clingy were just me projecting. I was a normal person.

I needed to go back to living a normal life.

7 That night, I went to a bar. People go crazy if they're cooped up for too long. I didn't want to become a crazy person. I desperately needed to find someone, a living, breathing man with hands and feet. I needed affection.

The quality of men at this bar was pretty good. I caught the eye of one of them, we had a few drinks, and a silent understanding passed between us. We stood up at the same time. The nearest hotel was only a couple hundred yards from the bar.

We were like a tinderbox, ready to ignite. Until we heard a persistent tapping sound at the window, like someone was throwing pebbles at it. But this was the 32nd floor. How was that possible? I pushed the man off me and told him to go check.

He got up impatiently, walked barefoot to the window, and pulled back the curtains.

There, plastered against the glass, was a black snake nearly three feet long, writhing and trying to butt its head against the window. "A snake!" he screamed, scrambling away. I tried to call out to him, to remind him he wasn't wearing any clothes.

But he was too fast. He was gone in a flash, like a tornado. I sighed. If only he could move that fast in other situations. The man was gone, and the tapping on the window stopped. I walked over and looked at the snake through the glass.

I didn't even want to think about how he had tracked me down and climbed 32 floors. I opened the window and let him in. He was covered in dust, his onceshiny scales were dull, and there was even a halfrotten leaf stuck to his head.

He didn't immediately cling to me. He just collapsed on the windowsill, exhausted. "Why do you keep following me? I'm not even good to you," I said, my voice flat as I stared at him. The snake couldn't talk. So naturally, he couldn't answer me.

I held out my hand, and he limply coiled himself around it. I gave him a bath and then offered up my neck for him to wrap around. He seemed really tired. He lay on my shoulder, not moving, fast asleep.

I buttoned the top button of my shirt and adjusted it to make sure he couldn't be seen. Then I checked out of the hotel. I took him home with me.