Skip to content

The Roommate

By: Noemy Campos


            It’s 3 AM and I’m going back to the dorms after a long night of not doing anything and hanging out in the library. The Half Dome hallway is cold and smells like weed. There are a few students in the lounge doing hw and snacking on chips. I’m in front of my dorm debating on whether I want to go in. There’s been lots of fights lately so the room is always filled with tension. I don’t have anywhere else to go, I’m tired of staying at my friends place, so I decide to head in. When I first open the door, I get smacked with the cool spring air from outside. The window is open again. Our AC is broken and one of our roommates gets hives when it’s too hot so they always leave the window open. I’ve told them several times I can’t stand the cold. I stomp over to it and grab the window and try to slam it shut. Over and over again, I bring the door to the window sill, forcing it to close. The shutters clap, pens fall, and my roommates hydro flasks falls. The sound of metal hitting the hard floor booms throughout our room. I look at the bunk beds, expecting them to be sitting up on their beds.

            But no. Lorrena and Jeniffer’s beds are empty, their backpacks are gone. There’s only one person home, Victoria. I walk over to her bunk and look down at her. She’s in blue basketball shorts and a black tank top. Her blanket is on the side, there’s little sweat droplets on her forehead. I set my backpack down as I continue to look over her. We used to be really good friends, I thought I could tell her anything. But I thought wrong, she went and told the others about all the nasty things I said about them and how I’ve been using them. She’s made them think that they can talk back to me and stand up to me. They always text me now telling me to clean up my side of the room. I chose my place in my room, plus they didn’t care before that my suitcases were on the floor for months or that my shoes were everywhere, or even that my plates would go unwashed stinking up the room. They didn’t care until she started talking behind my back. I’ve tried to get them to see her as the villain but they won’t.


            I’ll manipulate them one way or another though.


            Victoria moves, she stretches and lays down on her stomach. Her back exposed to me.

Completely vulnerable. I can hear her heavy breathing and my body tightness with anger. I grab the scissors off my desk and lift them high in the air and start slashing. “AAAAAAA! AAAAA!” Victoria walks up seeing me slash myself.

            “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DUDE STOP!” She grabs my hands but they’re slipping as the blood continues to flow. I flip the scissors over and start hacking away. The scissors are slashing into her cheeks, her arms, her thighs. Blood droplets land here and there. The walls are getting covered in blood now. She’s still fighting me trying to get off the bed. She grabs my wrist and slashes my cheek before pushing me into Jennifer’s desk. She’s stumbling and shaking, fear wide in her eyes. I lunge at her but she’s already taking off to the door. She can’t run though. But I can. I easily tackle her to the floor. She’s pushing my chest my face but I bite her hand and put my knee on her throat.

            “I’m going to tell everyone you stabbed me and I fought you in self-defense. You should have kept your mouth shu-” She stabs my side. The pain instantly fills me “HELP-” Victoria kicks me in the stomach, “Fuck you, crazy bitch.”

            She runs out into the hall and starts yelling, “HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME! MY ROOMMATE TRIED TO KILL ME! PLEASE HELP WE NEED AN AMBULANCE!” I pull out the scissors from my side. I yell out in pain and chase after her. I make the turn in the hall

and see her hugging someone’s leg, begging them to save her. Her cheeks red with rolling tears. Her grip tight on their shorts. The student looks at me and I fall over. “Please sir, don’t believe her. She tried to kill me! I need help! I’m bleeding!” I cry out and hold out my bloody hands. They rush over to me and I start crying. Thanking them over and over again. No one’s going to believe her now. Not when I’m the one injured.