Let me be the first to say that, there are many good aspects of living in a dorm. The sense of community that has been created between my hallmates and I has been wonderful, and I have been fortunate enough to meet many kind, unique, funny, and interesting people that have become my friends.

While there are certain downsides to dorm life, most of them are issues that I can bear to live with.

For instance, the struggle of having a roommate is something that all college students must endure, yet while I sometimes have trouble aligning my life with his, I enjoy my roommate enough that it does not bother me.

If you are not blessed with a private bathroom or a suite-style dorm, then you understand the hassle of a hall bathroom. While I am occasionally troubled by the smell or the trail my hallmates leave behind, it is never so foul that I feel I can’t enter the bathroom.

Even being cramped into a tiny room, where I have had to creatively organize all the things I brought to school into my side has been perfectly fine, and I enjoy having a space that I could decorate all my own. The twin bed is even pretty comfortable.

But while these are all small issues that I can easily overlook, there is one thing that I cannot stand anymore: ants.

Ants have seemed to follow me throughout my entire life, and I am beginning to wonder if they are drawn to me.

Beginning back in my home, we had an ant problem. It would start off small, one here, a little one there, but nothing major. Then, suddenly… infestation! We would walk into the kitchen, or into a bathroom, and it would appear as if a bottle of black pepper had been spilled all over the floor. Fifty creepy sets of legs zooming all over the place. Screams would ensue, a bottle of Raid would be grabbed, and we would spray all those ants until we didn’t see a single twitch. Then, we would clean up and follow a course of action. We tried ant baits that were supposed to kill them, we tried exterminators, and we kept every single food item sealed up tight. Sometimes we would think they had gone away, believing our efforts had finally obliterated the little pests. But, once our guard had been let down, we would spot another one, and the cycle would continue.

This cycle went on for years, and it wasn’t until the past year that we finally did not have an ant problem. Since I have come to college, I have not heard my parents complain about ants at all. In fact, during my last few months at home, it seemed like the ants had finally moved on, and their torment would be over forever.

But, I should have known better. The ants hadn’t left me alone at all. Instead, they were just using that time to travel, because they knew I would be moving into a new place.

I’m not sure how they got this information, but those damn sneaky insects pinpointed the location to the exact dorm that I would be living in. It seemed like I had only been living here a day when I started spotting them. The horror took over, and I had flashbacks of my past experiences. I would spot one and kill it, hoping it was just a rare straggler. But, then I would spot more. A couple would be moving around on the floor, and a couple would be on the walls. Then, one day, disaster hit.

I entered my room, and there on top of my wardrobe, surrounding my sealed containers of snacks, was what appeared to be at least one hundred ants. I took action as quickly as I could, spraying all the ants I saw and washing them off of my things. Luckily, the ants had not breached the containers, and my food remained safe. But, the prospect of having another outbreak concerned me. I cleaned all of my belongings on top of my closet with Clorox wipes, and I made sure that not a speck of food was left out in the open. I vacuumed any and all crumbs, and I made sure to always eat outside of the room.

After this petrifying experience, it seemed as if the ants had gone away. I did not spot them for months, and I hoped that when I came back from winter break, I would never have to think about them again. But, I knew it was all too good to be true.

My RA stated at our most recent hall meeting that the ants were supposed to have been taken care of over the break. I’m not sure what efforts were made, but I couldn’t believe it. The ants are never gone. They always come back.

And now, in the past week, I’ve started to see them come back. I’ve spotted a couple on the floor, a few on my walls, and I’ve even found some crawling on my body at certain times. I am aware that it is just a matter of time before another infestation occurs. I just fear the day when I will walk in and find a swarm of ants crawling all over my belongings and I will have to get rid of them.

I’ve been taking all the precautions I can, but I realize my efforts are fruitless. I am not sure why I have been cursed with this ant magnetism, but I wish I could erase it. I don’t know if I was bitten by an ant as a child in some sort of Spider-Man fashion. I’m not sure if the deodorant I use is particularly appealing to the ants. Heck, I might have even been crowned the Ant King and I’m somehow just not aware of it. I do not want to be the Ant King, I did not ask to be the Ant King, and I wish I could just be left alone.

I feel bad for my hallmates because these ants have taken over our entire dorm. Rooms have been overrun, food has been invaded, and lives have been ruined. At this point, I am just patiently awaiting the next contamination. As the Ant King, I just have to wait for the arrival of these insects, assuming that one day they will probably take over my body and carry me to the colony. I have come to terms with the fact that my life will always involve ants until they find someone else to torture. I will live the rest of my life with a bottle of Raid by my side until they find another Ant King.