Our flatmate found a scorpion in her Shein bundle'

 

Our flatmate found a scorpion in her Shein bundle'

Sure! Here’s a story for “Our flatmate found a scorpion in her Shein bundle.”

---

It was a typical Thursday evening when our flatmate, Jess, decided to open her latest Shein delivery. We were all sprawled out in the living room, binge-watching a show none of us were really paying attention to, but the unspoken rule was to stick together for unboxing moments—it was a little ritual in our flat. 

Jess had been waiting for this package for over a week, constantly checking her tracking updates, refreshing the page like it held the secrets of the universe. Finally, it had arrived: a pastel-colored bundle of fast fashion goodness, filled with tops, skirts, and accessories for her weekend plans.

( +)

She dropped the package onto the floor in front of her with a dramatic flourish. “Alright, prepare to be amazed by the questionable quality and irresistible pricing!” she announced. We all scooted closer, ready to pass judgment on her purchases.

Jess tore through the plastic packaging, giggling as she pulled out a floral blouse. Then came a pair of earrings shaped like tiny suns, followed by a pair of chunky platform shoes. Everything was going as expected until she reached for the last item in the bundle—a dress wrapped in a clear plastic bag.

As Jess opened the plastic bag, her face froze. Her smile vanished, replaced by an expression that was part confusion, part horror. “Guys,” she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly, “there’s something in here.”

( +)

We all leaned in closer, assuming she’d found a missing button or maybe a discount voucher. But when she held the bag up to the light, we saw it—a small, dark shape moving inside the folds of the dress. And that’s when it happened. A scorpion—yes, an actual, living scorpion—fell out of the dress and landed on our living room carpet.

Screams erupted in unison. Jess threw the dress to the side like it was on fire, and our other flatmate, Lucy, leaped onto the sofa, pulling her legs up and yelling, “Kill it! Kill it!” 

“Kill it? I’m not going near that thing!” Jess shouted back, her voice now a full octave higher than usual. 

I grabbed the nearest weapon I could find, which turned out to be an empty cereal box, and made a vague swatting motion in the direction of the scorpion. The creature seemed entirely unimpressed, raising its tail in defiance as if to say, “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Okay, nobody panic,” I said, which was a joke because we were all clearly on the verge of total panic. “We need a plan!”

( +)

Lucy, still perched on the sofa, started Googling frantically. “It says here that scorpions like to hitch rides in packages from warmer countries! Oh my God, this one might be poisonous!”

Jess, https://tinyurl.com/55esmd9nnow looking pale and regretting every decision that led her to this moment, said, “This was supposed to be a dress for a wedding, not an invitation to meet my maker!”

Just then, our neighbor Sam, who had heard the commotion through the thin walls, burst into the room. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, looking at the chaos of scattered clothes, the cereal box in my hand, and Lucy hyperventilating on the sofa.

“Scorpion!” Jess yelled, pointing at the creature, which was now slowly making its way across the carpet like it owned the place.

( +)

Sam, unfazed and slightly amused, calmly walked over, took off one of his sneakers, and with a swift and confident smack, brought it down on the scorpion. There was a squish, a pause, and then silence. The scorpion was no more.

“Ew, gross,” he said, lifting his sneaker to inspect the damage. “What kind of fashion statement is that?”

Jess, recovering her composure, managed a shaky laugh. “Well, that’s the last time I order from Shein without checking for a ‘no-scorpions-included’ guarantee.”

The rest of us exhaled in relief, though none of us could quite believe what had just happened. Lucy was already drafting a scathing email to Shein’s customer service about quality control, and Jess stared at the dress like it had personally betrayed her.

( +)

We laughed it off eventually, though for weeks afterward, every time a package arrived at our flat, someone would say, “Careful! It might be a dress—or a deadly stowaway.”

And to this day, every time Jess orders from Shein, she does so with a pair of gloves and a broom in hand, just in case her fashion statement tries to make a statement of its own.