Horror Stories

Do you have a friend who seems to know everyone?

When you're in a room, it's easy to block yourself off from what's going on outside.

If you're in a hotel, you can switch off the part of your consciousness that is aware that there are other people directly above, below and to the side of you; the walls act as more than just a physical barrier.

It often takes a muffled voice or a dull thud from behind these barriers to shatter the illusion and remind you that life goes on beyond your realm of comfort.

I've been staring at my ceiling for hours today. The barriers have truly been broken. I'm all too aware that the room above me is separated only by plaster, wire and wood.

He's my friend. He's still my friend. I like him.

Isak lives in the room above me. We met on the opening day of university on one of those painful team bonding meet 'n' greets.

Thankfully he was as sarcastic and unenthusiastic as I was about the session and we got on well from the start.

He was Swedish; tall, blonde, blue eyes - typical Scandinavian l guess - and spoke with an eerily fluent Southern English accent, God knows what I'd sound like to him if I attempted Swedish!

Isak had an effortless confidence about him, he just oozed likability. He said he'd moved from Malmo to England to study just for a change of scenery and to get away from a few family problems at home which I didn't pry into.

The first year of uni went by like a breeze. I had already taken a year at a different university before dropping out with huge regrets over the degree I'd chosen, so my experience of being a Fresher second time round was a little numbed, unfortunately, and I couldn't quite replicate the excitement of everyone else, but it made it easier to get work done, I suppose.

I spent most of my free time hanging out in halls with Isak and a few friends from our course, just playing football or going the Xbox, although I never considered why we never went round to Isak's dorm.

It was only after spending some more time with Isak that I realized just how popular he'd become on campus in such a short space of time.

Walks to seminars and lectures were punctuated by constant interruptions as people said hello to him and stopped for a short chat and vice versa.

I could feel myself becoming part of the background, a chameleon that nobody would have noticed anyway as I lingered on the fringes of conversation.

I wasn't sure if I was being jealous of the people Isak was talking to, or if I was jealous of his effortless social skills, but as soon as their conversations would end, I would snap back into focus and was part of the world again.

It was always disconcerting to feel so irrelevant for frequent short periods of time as I have never considered myself to be passive or shy in any way, but Isak's light simply shone brighter.

In around March of first year, Isak, myself and three others had sorted out the house we would rent the next year after we'd left the campus halls.

It was a relatively homely place a two minute walk from the town center, providing us the freedom that living on campus couldn't serve up.

The University was situated 4 miles away from the upmarket seaside town to which its allegiances lay and the lack of the big city vibe gave the student life a unique, relaxed flavor and we couldn't wait to be at the heart of the town.

I quickly snapped up the front facing first floor room, whilst Isak insisted on the attic room directly above mine.

That summer we moved into the house and quickly settled in, buying extra furniture and a huge TV (an essential purchase).