THE ROOMMATE

My roommate was a little annoying.

He watches me when I'm not looking, and he never responds to any of my greetings.

I have done many things to make him like me, or at least tolerate my presence in the room.

I've cooked for the both of us, presented it on the small table in our room, and called him so we could eat together.

He simply stared at me like I was stupìd for calling him to eat with me, and after glancing at my food in disgust, he turned on his bed, facing the sandy wall of our room as he went to sleep.

I've cleaned the room, kitchen, toilet, and bathroom of our hostel ward alone, not bothering to call him to help in hopes that he would appreciate and accept me more.

But after I was done cleaning, I went and sat on my bed, hoping to hear a thank you from him.

He just came in, glanced around the sparkling room, and without saying any other word, he climbed onto his bed and went to sleep.
hostel.

That day, I knocked on the door of the room and waited. After hearing nothing from inside, I unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

Immediately, I stumbled into a halt for I saw the person I would be sharing the room with, seated quietly on the bed, facing the door.

"I have been knocking, I guess you didn't hear me," I said, a small smile creasing my lips as I greeted my roommate for the first time. "My name is Jason."

Instead of responding to my kind greetings, he watched me intensely with a small distaste in his mouth. His bright brown eyes surveyed me up and down, and he shook his head in disapproval.

I know that most people would have problems living or being friends as I looked every bit like a miscreant.

My hair was dreaded, a tattoo of a winged snake ran down my right forearm, a hoop passed through the wall of my nostrils, two small rings pierced my ears, and my jeans and shirt had holes in them.

I looked more like a cultist and a thief than a student.

I looked very different from my roommate as he was dressed modestly as he came from a decent home.

I knew that some pious fanatics like my roommate would find it strange living with someone with my lifestyle.

But I wanted to make him know that my character was very different from how I was dressed, and I spent the next few days proving this by helping in the room, cleaning the floors, and greeting my roommate, but no matter what I did, he was determined not to accept me.

As days passed, though, his reserved character and lack of socializing began to bother me and make me feel uncomfortable.

I know that there was nothing else I could do to have him accept me, and I know that there was only one way to solve our unspoken issue.

By us separating!

By me leaving the room to find another hostel room.

The very next day, I went down to the Warden who was in charge of assigning us rooms.

"How may I help you," the cheerful Warden asked, her fingers ready to click on the keyboards of her computer.

I spent the next few minutes explaining everything to her, telling her how I made my roommate uncomfortable and how he, in turn, made me feel uncomfortable. I told her that I found his cold behaviour and snubbing annoying, and I wanted to switch rooms.

"Hostel room number?" asked the Warden.

"Room 103!" I answered sharply.

"You're joking right?" the Warden inquired, looking into the computer.

"No, I'm not." I was confused.

A perplexed look shrouded the Warden's face, and then she said, "Jason, your roommate hasn't checked in yet! He is yet to arrive."

My heart skipped a beat...

Who is the boy in my room?

cording to the records, he hasn't arrived yet. He was supposed to come yesterday, but he called and said he had some family issues and he would be late. He hasn't checked in yet."

I felt a surge of panic and confusion as I tried to process what she was saying.

"Then who is the boy in my room?" I asked, almost in a whisper.

The Warden shrugged and gave me a sympathetic look.

"I don't know, Jason. Maybe you have a squatter. Maybe someone broke into your room and decided to stay there. Maybe it's a prank. Maybe it's a ghost. I really don't know. But I suggest you go back to your room and find out. And be careful, okay? You don't know who or what you're dealing with."

I nodded and thanked her, but I felt a knot in my stomach as I turned and walked out of the office.

I had a million questions running through my mind as I made my way back to my room.

Who was the boy in my room?

How did he get in?

Why was he pretending to be my roommate?

What did he want from me?

Was he dangerous?

Was he even human?

I felt a chill run down my spine as I remembered his cold and hostile gaze, his silent and aloof demeanor, his strange and unsettling presence.

He was not like anyone I had ever met before.

He was not like anyone I wanted to meet again.

But I had no choice.

I had to face him.

I had to confront him.

I had to find out the truth.

I reached my room and took a deep breath.

I knocked on the door and waited.

No answer.

I knocked again, louder.

Still no answer.

I tried the handle and found it unlocked.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was dark and quiet.

I looked around and saw him.

He was lying on his bed, facing the wall, just like he always did.

He didn't move or acknowledge my presence.

He didn't seem to care that I was there.

He didn't seem to care about anything.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration as I walked towards him.

"Hey, you!" I shouted. "Who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want from me?"

He didn't respond.

He didn't even flinch.

He just lay there, motionless and silent.

I reached his bed and grabbed his shoulder, trying to turn him around.

"Answer me, damn it!" I yelled. "Who are you?"

He finally moved.

He turned his head and looked at me.

And I saw his eyes.

His bright brown eyes.

They were glowing.

He was not human.

He was something else.

Something terrible.

Something evil.

He smiled.

And then he attacked me...............

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