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I Think My Roommate Is A Ghost

I miss living with friends...

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I Think My Roommate Is A Ghost
Emily Vokal

I have been blessed with wonderful roommates throughout my life - until now.

Looking back, my chain of roommates began when I was around five and lived with my sister. We shared a room through elementary school, middle school, and for her, high school. Though we definitely had our share of sibling fights and bickering over where the line that divided our halves was (my messy clothing pile usually took over), she was a built-in friend. We would stay up late talking. I would secretly read her diary. It was great.

Going into freshman year, I was scared of living with new people, since I had lived in the same room of the same house my entire life. I lucked out. I had a suite of wonderful girls I got along with well. I have shared a room with close friends, best friends, acquaintances, and sorority sisters, and they were all wonderful. Sure, we had passive aggressive behavior towards each other’s annoying alarms or visits from gentleman callers, but it always worked out. At the end of the day, I had someone I could cry to or share a pint of Ben and Jerry’s with during the "Grey’s Anatomy" season finale.

Last year opened up even newer doors as I learned how awesome it is to share a main space and bathroom with my best friends, but have my own room. From my summer apartment to the infamous Colonial 8 crew, those have some of the best memories. We would stay up late, talking and binge watching whatever the latest Netflix obsession was at the time. They saw me at all levels of happiness, sadness, consciousness, illness, definitely cleanliness. The best part was that at the end of the day, we would go into our individual rooms with our preferred temperature, setup, and noise level. These people were how I got through junior year, and I cannot imagine a better living situation.

Because of these experiences, I wasn’t too worried moving into a random apartment by the University of Maryland. They would be college girls with similar interests and we would be friends, because that’s how it’s done. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I’m lucky enough to have my own bedroom and bathroom, but the shared space is a war zone, and the thermostat is the place of many battles.

It’s up for debate how many roommates I actually have. I can have up to three, because it’s a four bedroom. I have settled on two, but extra ones are up for debate. I moved in over Memorial Day weekend, and they were all gone. The apartment office gave me three phone numbers for the other residents and I texted them after a day to see if they’d be back. For a while, I thought that they just left their food behind and that I’d be alone for the summer. I got no reply from any of them, so I had no idea what was going on. After half a week in solitude, I hear something in the kitchen when I was holed away in my room. "My roommate!” I thought as I went out to introduce myself. I came out, and she was surprised to see me. She said, “Hi, sorry about the mess,” and scurried into her room. I heard the deadbolt lock as my heart dropped. I knew that I would not be living with built in friends this summer. I continued to see her over that week, and we even ran into each other on the metro. I sat by her so she was forced to talked to me for the duration of the commute at least.

The next weekend, I thought I had a second roommate. There was a girl in the main room watching television in sweats eating a bag of popcorn. I tried to say hi, but she dismissed me. It turns out that she was the original roommate, but I hadn’t seen her without her hair and makeup done in business professional dress. She looked like a completely different person. I felt terrible, but at least I didn’t have two standoffish girls sharing the space for the summer. She continues to ignore me or walk away when I talk to her, but it’s becoming routine. She once smuggled in a dog, which aren’t allowed in our building. Normally, I would love it and spend the whole night petting it. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t stop barking at me. I wasn’t sure if the roommate or dog would be more likely to bite me if I got within five feet of either.

I was beginning to accept this doomed roommate match when I started noticing signs of an actual second roommate this past week. In the late night and early morning, I would hear the jingle of keys followed by a door opening, closing, and the turn of a deadbolt lock. Unfriendly Roommate lived on the other side of the kitchen, so there was no way she’d be on my end of the hallway. This only meant one thing: there’s a ghost. I became extra cautious in locking my own doors, because I did not want Ghost Roommate ever stumbling into my room. I tried to "catch" her by coming out of my room when I heard the keys, but she was always either already out the front door or in her room by the time I peeked outside my room.

Short of staging a booby trap and being labeled Crazy Roommate, I tried everything I could. I even started waking up early and eating my breakfast in the main room so that I could ‘accidentally’ run into her. She was too smart. She’d either come in while my alarm was going off or enter as soon as I left my station. I started to notice other signs in this investigation that she did indeed exist. Unfriendly Roommate likes to turn off the AC, no matter how sweaty it makes me. She’s just frugal. Sometimes, I’d wake up freezing and check the thermostat to see that someone turned it all the way to 69. I’m too terrified to even touch Unfriendly Roommate’s food, and she is too much of a food snob to make herself a sandwich out of my store brand peanut butter and jelly. However, bits of my leftovers and food have been slowly going missing. It wasn’t until Unfriendly Roommate was gone this weekend that more of my honey walnut cream cheese was missing each day. I am being haunted by someone who appreciates fancy flavored bread spreads maybe more than I do.

Today, I cracked. I had to know. I texted Unfriendly Roommate. I knew it was actually her and actually her number, because Snapchat keeps suggesting I add her as a friend (lol). The conversation went like this:

Me: Hey, it’s Emily, your roommate. Is there someone who lives in room D? Or are you in the apartment? Just asking, because I keep hearing the door lock and unlock. Thanks and see you soon!

Unfriendly Roommate: that’s Kristina she’s weird

Ghost Roommate or Weird Roommate? I’ll never know unless I ever see her. It’s gonna be a long summer, and I cannot wait to live with friends once more.
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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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