a Roommate from Hell
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Table of Contents
Chapter I: A New Semester Chapter II: Roommate Chapter III: More about Daniel Chapter IV: Still Daniel Chapter V: The Dog Incident Chapter VI: Death Chapter VII: A Letter from Daniel
About the Author
Samantha Yi, born in 1991, is now a 4th year junior-college student at Wenzao Ursuline College of Languages. This is her first novel.
Chapter I: A New Semester This is the first time I don’t feel depressed going back to school. I mean, seriously, no summer feelings linger as I see my fourth year life in Wenzao waving at me. No more cursing at my new class schedule as well. Another school year, a completely new start! And I’m feeling totally excited! I’m so ready to learn to be strong and independent, though I suppose this should be partly attributed to the fact that my parents have finally accepted to let me live off campus! To be honest, this is literally something I’ve dreamt of doing since, oh well, who knows, since I first saw my mom and dad fighting and growling at each other all those
years ago perhaps. I’ve always wondered if my mother truly believes that I never noticed the new glasses she secretly bought to replace the old ones that had been sacrificed during their late-night wars. (Granted, it’s awfully nice and considerate of them to hide the fact that their marriage has been rotten, only do they assume that their son automatically turns deaf several times a week so as not to hear the sound of breaking glasses and screams?) Anyway, I’m renting an apartment near the school this year, and I’m moving in a week ahead of schedule! Last night, thrilled at the prospect of having to return home only twice a semester (that is, after midterm and final
exams), I couldn’t help yelling out “to freedom” as my friends and I bottomed up our drinks, so loud that everyone within a five-seat radius turned to look at me, wondering what I was up to. Ian said with a chuckle. That under my tough look and muscular body, I actually have a sensitive mind similar to that of girls (maybe I tell my friends too much about my everyday thoughts?) “Plus,” he added, “Who else can shriek like you do?” Oh. He’s referring to the time I got shocked over the dead rat prank they set up. Mark and Charlie bursted out laughing upon hearing this. I know Ian was just teasing, but I figured punching
him ought to be the best solution to save myself from being drown in humiliation. And so I did. Following my action was Ian’s shrill voice of “ouch” adding other unpleasant words. Few people gazed towards him, and well, at least Ian’s question was answered by himself. It’s been two weeks since school started, and everything’s good so far, I think. I remember doing a test last week. Some kind of personality test with questions like: Do I (a) prefer to be alone (b) prefer to spend time with a small group of close friends (c) prefer to spend time with a large group of people (d) prefer to spend time with family?
And here’s my favourite one: Am I (a) a thinker (b) a doer (c) a planner (d) a dreamer? (Me: most of the time (d) though occasionally a mixture of all of the above?) There were one hundred questions like this on the sheet, and I’m sure the person who invented this test only intended to make it as an entertaining activity for people to kill time, since despite my effort of checking each question－unlike some others who miraculously finished the test within sixty seconds－I got a result that seriously made me doubt its accuracy: You are a shy, quiet, and loving person. (Me:!!!!!!!!!!) Oh man. This is crap. But I guess that’s what we do in
life, right? You know, making false judgments and all that. Like last time, because of some huge misunderstanding, I hit the wrong guy for Ian (which I really regretted right after, though I still didn’t apologize). Wait, this just reminds me of what Mr. Moscovitz asked us to do this morning: “I want you to think about how to ‘wrap up’ your life with kind words. Imagine your life journey has come to an end and you’re writing things for people to remember you.” Honestly, this really isn’t the kind of school work I was looking forward to. Can you believe this? My first English writing assignment is to write my own
obituary! And Mr. Moscovitz sounded as if it couldn’t have been more common. Fantastic. I think I’ve got a general idea of how an epitaph on a tombstone should be like: eloquent, beautiful, and touching. Urgh. So we’re supposed to recount our own stories as true as we think they need to be? Right. A misinterpreted version of my life story－with some editing and imagination－that’s simple enough. Only, why am I the only one thinking this is a bit too shadowy to do at the beginning of the semester?
Chapter II: Roommate It was late at night when he moved in. That’s the first weird thing I noticed. I wouldn’t say my new roommate disturbed the routine of my life, but I can swear to God that he’s the most mysterious person one can ever meet. Daniel, that’s his name. A tall, pale guy always with a hostile expression on his face. At least that’s what I think. My friend Charlie saw him once, and he thought Daniel looked, and I quote, “completely dumb because of his lack of emotion.” Ian, on the other hand, is not that critical. He made a comment last weekend saying my roommate is “not at all stupid, just slightly irritating since he refuses to
interact with others like normal people.” With this I couldn’t agree more. Believe me, it’s like he pretends nobody exists! I especially hate talking to him, for he always asks me to repeat my words! Is he deaf or something? Though I try not to show my anger, at times like this I usually clench my fists and deliberately enunciate every syllable as if I were speaking to someone mentally handicapped. Well, just understand this: Daniel is not easy to get along with! Great. New semester, new challenge. I know it’s too late for me to blame myself for thinking it ok to share my flat with this “stranger”, but really, I can’t stand it any longer.
Because deep inside my heart, I can sense that there seems to be some real violence in him that he carefully hides. Boy’s instinct, I would say.
Chapter III: More about Daniel Daniel just rushed out again. Yes, again. And it’s nearly half past eleven at night now. What could it possibly be that he’s up to? Though I must say I was actually quite surprised to hear him say “bye, Simon” before he slammed the door. Well, he had never called me by name before. Not even once. How bizarre. I’m turning off the TV right now. NBA can get a little boring when you watch it for three straight hours, if you know what I mean. But instead of going back to my room, I’m sitting on the sofa, cross-legged, trying to remember that horrible scene I saw two days ago… I sneaked into Daniel’s room exactly at this time this
Friday. I know people always say curiosity can kill a cat, but believe me, it wasn’t me being impulsive. Fact is, I was being lured! You see, just when I walked past Daniel’s room, a sudden rush of cold air overtook me from behind, which, now looking back, really sounded quite scary. No idea how I worked up the courage to go in there. Anyway, before I could stop myself, I quickly grabbed the door knob and swung the door open, and what really struck me was the black walls with thousands of 3M post-it notes (you know, those tiny yellow sticky ones) stuck on! I felt dizzy for a moment, head spinning while I was struggling to find
the light switch. A cartoon thought bubble formed over my head as soon as my eyes got adjusted to the sudden brightness: What the hell has he done to his room? Ok, maybe it was none of my business how he decorated his room, but I had this weird feeling when seeing this. Weird, isn’t it? In fact, everything inside Daniel’s room made me feel uncomfortable. I looked around and noticed lying on the floor were some yellowed newspapers, torn magazines, cups of instant noodles, as well as bottles and boxes with peeled off labels. Sitting on his desk, on the other hand, were piles of books, a laptop, and some
incomprehensible
handwritten
notes.
So
far
everything seemed normal. Oh, and I forgot to mention that crystal ball. A huge one of crimson red colour! Is this Harry Potter or some witch hunting game? However, what gave me a fright came later. As I was trying to take a closer look at what was written on those tiny yellow notes on the walls�though mostly just names, dates, and numbers�some sort of little red spots at the corner caught my attention. I must’ve unknowingly bent myself down immediately after because the next thing I knew, I was kneeling on the floor tracing where the blood stains came from. And
finally I found it: a dead mouse lying close to the foot of the bed. No, actually it was still alive, or should I say half-dead at that moment, since it was breathing when I looked down, only its intestines were hanging out with its body and fur covered in blood. I felt sick to my stomach. Shooting a second glance, I noticed there were also little minute beads of blood caught in the filaments of its whiskers, and I could sense that its agonizing eyes were screaming voicelessly. It was all too painful to look at. Three things occurred to me at once. One, that Daniel was not normal. Two, that he was not just abnormal but was sick enough to “smash� a mouse to death?
Three, that I was crazy enough to live with a pervert like this. I ran back to my room as fast as I could. I was trying to shrug off what I had just seen, though the eyes of that white mouse haunted me still. Later in my dreams, strangely enough, I felt another pair of eyes that had been long lost in my memory staring at me. What’s different was that, those eyes belonged to a cat. Or to be more exact, the cat I kept when I was in my boyhood‌
Chapter IV: Still Daniel New discovery: Daniel has proved to be a smart student. Ok, I know I should be remembering that scary night and how cruelly he tortured the mouse, but hey, it’s hard to talk stink of a person who helped your group get an A, right? Plus we’re talking about Mr. Black’s assignment here! Note that Mr. Black is famous for giving grades no higher than C! I’m not saying that I don’t mind hanging out with a cold-hearted mouse-killer － by the way I didn’t mention “that” to my friends, namely Ian, Mark, and Charlie, in case they decided to feed me to the wolf disguised as my roommate from hell and left me
bleeding to death － I’m simply pointing out my roommate’s intelligence. In fact, it was a real surprise when Daniel first came to sit with our group after Mr. Black assigned us to do class work. Ok, if you really want to know, it was the day after the, well let’s just call it, “the mouse incident”. He politely asked if he could join our discussion, and despite my effort of using my eyes signalling a big NO to my friends, they all agreed to let him join us on account of our being “acquainted”. I guess they just wanted to see it as a joke, like I hadn’t told them enough about how strange a person my roommate was! But like I said, he has turned out to be
a pretty useful group member. Unlike us, his critical thinking skills are apparently not paralyzed, because although he’s quiet most of the time, when it gets to analyzing each paragraph of a story which is basically all we’re doing during English reading class, he can write an awful lot of his in-depth points of view, and obviously deep enough for Mr. Black to rethink his grading policy. As far as I know, Daniel is quite good at languages. And personally, I think his Italian pronunciation is even better than the teacher’s! Also, Daniel can speak fluent French. Better than any of the students in class, I’d say. You can tell that Madame tries to challenge him every time by throwing to him
really long sentences like: En pleine polémique sur l'élitisme des concours d'entrée des grandes écoles, Nicolas Sarkozy s'est prononcé en faveur d'un élargissement de la base sociale des écoles d'excellence à l'occasion de ses voeux au monde au monde de l'éducation et de la recherche, lundi matin sur le plateau de Saclay. while most of us are only trying to learn to diagram short ones like this: Je vais aller à l’école.
Chapter V: The Dog Incident My parents are getting a divorce, and they’re bringing my dog Jimmy to come see me, for the first time and also the last. Family reunion, I reckon. Mom’s been trying to assure me that she will keep in touch with me from time to time, but it seems to me more like she’s comforting herself that she’s still got her son. For this I can’t blame her. I remember how sorrow took over her when our cat died several years ago. I guess Mom’s afraid of losing me, too. Jimmy’s coming to stay over my place for this weekend. I couldn’t be happier, really! Did I tell you that I’m a huge animal lover? I haven’t always been
one; ironically, it was after our cat Kathy got lost－ Mom’s belief, though I’m sure the cat died anyway－ that I started to learn to love animals. Then I got Jimmy. He’s a loyal dog and I swore to myself once that I would never, ever let him get harmed. This is what I said to Daniel when he asked about my dog just now. We can chat a bit now, you know, having a few conversations, because he’s finally decided to loosen up his poker face and seemingly guarded behaviours. Not entirely, but at least he’s trying. I’ll take that as his first step to becoming friendly with people.
I can’t believe this! I have no idea how it happened! Yet it just did. Jimmy died an hour ago! Right after my parents left. No car accident, no stroke. He just collapsed…for some unknown reason, and never got up again. It all happened too fast, like an action film. My brain functioned too slowly for me to grasp everything and when it finally did…it was too late!!!!!! My grief is too much to be written down here, but I can’t break down. I’m sure about one thing though, and that’s enough for my mind to stay clear to do proper thinking: why, I wonder, was the crystal ball turning bright red exactly at the moment before Jimmy fell down? Just two minutes before what
happened I was standing by Daniel’s door informing him the departure of my parents, and when I was about to close the door I caught a glimpse of that plastic ball changing to a glittering scary red! I’m 100% sure that it had something to do with my dog’s death!!!!! Because you know what, another thing to support my theory is that Daniel locked his door and stayed inside his room the whole time I was calling out for help! Ordinary people wouldn’t have done that, right? Ordinary people, that is, PEOPLE WITH AT LEAST A BIT OF COMPASSION, would’ve come out to ask what was happening, right? Of course, unless Daniel knew what was happening
outside his room and pretended he hadn’t heard anything. Which, I think, was the case. Most likely he was hiding in there casting some dark magic spell on my poor dog. And don’t forget that he has half-killed a mouse once, too.
Chapter VI: Death I just confronted Daniel, and he asked me what I wanted to know. See? I knew he knew that I knew something. Daniel: “Fine. I’ll tell you everything. I am Death!” Me: … I was stunned. “Great, now that’s all cleared up” was all I managed to say in a very sarcastic tone. Is this some kind of a joke? I mean, the guy who killed my dog turned out to be a psycho? So I cannot blame him AT ALL? What’s worse, he was trying to raise my anger by saying, like it’s all my fault, that “see? I know nobody’s going to believe me! The way you look at
me reveals what’s about to jump out of your mouth, that I’m helplessly insane! Damn. You want to know more? Trust me first, all right?” Like I AM SUPPOSED TO lose my sanity as well? “Ok, I’ll do the talking, since apparently you cannot seem to absorb what I just dumped into your head. Listen carefully: I AM DEATH! Not the dead, but DEATH! Not THE Death as well, since I’m not the only one out there that kills!” This was the first time I heard him talk so much. He paused, either he was waiting for a response or hoping to see me flinch at his last sentence. Silence. I didn’t know what to say. Seriously, I was
too tired to speak. So I just nodded, leaving myself energy to punch him as soon as I composed myself. He took that as encouragement to explain more though. Daniel started to blabber－again, how rare－ about how he became Death and his daily killing job. Blah blah blah…things like that. He knew I wasn’t listening. “Buddy,” he called me as if we were THAT close, ignoring the fact that I didn’t care what bloody hell he was trying to talk me into, as miseries accumulated the more I thought about my life and my dog Jimmy, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about your loss, okay? You see, sometimes people/animals just die. There’s no way to avoid it. I didn’t make your
dog die. I just changed the way it died. Oh well, how to put this, I chose a better way so it could endure less pain… ” With rage burning in my eyes, I was adjusting my fighting position and pondering how to beat this mental ill bastard at any moment if he didn’t shut up. “Look, you don’t understand,” said the person who called himself Death, who now has an earnest and serious face. “Death’s job is to kill any life form whose time has come to say goodbye to this world, correct, but I, or should I say “we”, don’t kill people randomly. Remember that I told you I’m not the only Death?”
Gibberish, rubbish going on because he shall never hush. “Ok. I know you think I’m a cold-hearted monster. Adding insanely crazy. But do be aware of this: the only thing that is constant is change!” Huh? What now? Suddenly he is talking philosophy. Though in his tone, I could hear pleading. He genuinely,
desperately
wanted
me
to
believe
something. “You are refusing to see the change. Refusing to believe what’s changing in front of your eyes.” Daniel’s voice sounded a bit hoarse and cranky (I wanted to laugh but somehow couldn’t), and he
continued: “Exactly like the time I woke up from a dream where a bunch of people had congratulated me as Death. It took me time to realize my world had changed overnight much later on though.” Daniel said he didn’t want to become Death, but he had no choice. “It was like a rebirth once I accepted the fact that I have become Death, even though I considered it a nasty, dirty job to do.” So before he became Death, he died once? How that happened, though, he didn’t mention.
Chapter VII: A Letter from Daniel A mind with a daily-updated to-kill list, how horrible! As for that mouse he killed the other day, it turned out to be his pet! Death’s pet is immortal, so Daniel often uses his mouse (Doris) to experiment or demonstrate different ways of dying. Unfortunately, I happened to stumble across a really bad one. There are usually several options—limited choices, of course—for Death to choose from for a person or an animal to die. I actually felt not that upset when I learned that Jimmy could’ve died in a car crash. I guess that could’ve been worse.
Daniel left before the winter break started. Only a letter to say goodbye, it seems. _____________________________________ Simon, I think it’s best we say goodbye this way. Remember that snowflake globe on your desk? Turn it upside down once in a while. Life fades away before you know it. You see, I know what you did when you were 10. You ended a life just for fun, only to discover how you wish you could’ve not done
that terrible thing later. You really want to know how I died? I was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to death in 1789. I was a sleepwalk killer, but nobody believed it. I stabbed my brother 15 times before I pushed him into a pool, though I remembered nothing from that night. None of it. Being Death is, for me, more like atonement. D _____________________________________
I’m seeing those pairs of green eyes again. Kathy’s. I was 10, old enough to know right from wrong. That summer, I was so angry with my mom for not letting me go to a camp with my friends that I decided not to talk to her for weeks. My mom tried to please me in different ways. One afternoon, she baked me some cookies I refused to eat. She saw that I still couldn’t get over that camp thing, so she decided to ignore me and go out with Dad to visit some friends. I was left alone at home, both angry and upset. I wanted to do something different. Something that’d scare or enrage my mom.
So I went to the garden and fetched my mom’s favourite cat. I threw it into the oven, and then I ran outside before having to hear it scream. Daniel knew it all along. Death made me rediscover this dirty little secret.
Simon’s new roommate is weird and annoying. No, not just annoying, he’s literally a nightmare! Who is he? What does he really want to tell Simon? And why the hell does he want to brutally kill a mouse in his room, or worse, kill Simon’s dog……