Compilation Of Horror Stories

74: Roomates Don't Keep Secrets

I never knew where she went every Wednesday night. When I asked, she would never reply or act liked she didn't hear me. At first, I thought she was just seeing a guy and didn't want me to know about it. But over time it seemed strange to me that she would only see this person once a week for an hour. Maybe she got back into drugs or maybe she entered sex work. She was always a wild one and her past was speckled with dark spots.

I wanted to confront her, I mean we had been roommates for five years and we should be open and honest to each other. But every time I tried to confront her, I would get too nervous and scared that she would accuse me of not being a good friend and being to controlling. So I would leave it and passive aggressively show her that I was upset with her for keeping a secret from me. I know it seems immature but I didn't know what to do. That is, until I decided I should follow her.

It's Wednesday night and she has just left. I quickly and quietly slip out of the apartment and catch up to her walking down the street. We have been walking for about ten minutes and I notice that she starts walking into a church. I pause. Really? I laugh.

Why wouldn't she just tell me she's going to church? I realize I may have been overreacting and decided to head back home. I settle in and put the kettle on the stove, trying to shake off my silly suspicions, and maybe, just for once, not have to know everything and be so controlling.

An hour passes and she returns home, but this time not alone. I can't see who it is but I can hear him in the living room.

"So please tell me what you were telling Sister Angela a few weeks ago."

"My roommate killed herself four months ago but I believe she's still here."

The teapot hisses.

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