And it was a lot of work trying to keep them alive. What was it with the roaches lately, anyway? They'd always had some in the apartment, but now it seemed like every time he turned around he'd spot one. No one came in his room much.if you didn't count the roaches. He had a window that looked out on the street, the ceilings were nice and high, and he had more privacy than anybody else in the apartment.
He had to do his homework sitting cross-legged on his bed with a board on his knees. On the wall facing the foot of the bed, there was a little alcove with just enough room for a narrow dresser, although you could only open the drawers about eight inches. Gregor's single bed was wedged into it so, at night, he came in the doorway and crawled straight up to his pillow. Probably it was supposed to be some kind of storage space. He reached for an old mayonnaise jar that held his pencils, emptied it on the bed, and in one swift move trapped the cockroach beneath it. The cockroach rubbed its feelers together but made no attempt to run away. "You're just looking for trouble," he said softly to the cockroach.
Then he saw it sitting on the windowsill, motionless except for the delicate twitching of its antennas. He glanced around his tiny bedroom, trying to keep as still as possible. When Gregor opened his eyes he had the distinct impression that someone was watching him.
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