My second year in college had officially started.And I needed to move.
My hostel was way too far from school. It worked before, when things were relatively cheaper, but with the sudden increase in prices, it was no longer practical.
I needed somewhere closer.
Somewhere easier.
I didn't want to stay on campus either.
Too many restrictions.
Too many rules.
So I was left with a decision to make.
A new place meant higher rent.
And that meant I needed a solution.
I spoke to one of my friends about it, and he introduced me to someone—his friend, who also happened to be my neighbor in my current place.
Since she wasn't a complete stranger, I didn't have a problem getting an apartment with her.
It felt manageable.
At least, at the time.
We paid.
And we moved.
Just like that, I had a new space.
And a roommate.
Honestly…
I wasn't comfortable.
I had always been alone in my space.
My space.
Having to share it?
It felt like torture.
But I didn't have many options.
The first few days were the hardest.
Not because anything major happened—
But because everything felt different.
The noise.
The presence.
The constant reminder that I wasn't alone anymore.
Even silence didn't feel like mine.
What made it worse was that she was the exact opposite of me.
Jovial.
Friendly.
Always talking.
Always laughing.
The kind of person that attracts people without trying.
She tried to talk to me sometimes.
Simple questions.
Small conversations.
I answered.
But not enough to keep it going.
And eventually, she stopped trying as much.
Which I was grateful for.
But at the same time…
It made the space feel even stranger.
She had friends trooping in almost every day just to see her.
Their laughter would fill the room.
Loud.
Unfiltered.
Sometimes I stayed.
Other times, I left without saying much.
And that wasn't even the worst part.
She was a terrible cook.
A complete disaster in the kitchen.
I didn't understand it.
How could someone be that bad at cooking?
The smell alone was enough to make me lose my appetite.
It genuinely bothered me.
Not because it affected me directly…
But because I hated seeing nonsense being made in a kitchen.
My kitchen.
Still, I kept quiet.
It wasn't my place to complain.
So I complained in my head.
As much as I loved cooking, I didn't always do it.
Cooking for just myself didn't excite me.
I think what I enjoyed most wasn't the food itself—
It was the reaction.
People enjoying it.
Appreciating it.
That was what made it worth it.
So most times…
I didn't bother.
The new environment didn't help either.
It felt unfamiliar.
New people.
New faces.
New energy.
And I didn't have the strength to start socializing.
I didn't even know how to begin.
So I didn't.
Most days, I'd go over to my friend's place.
Stay there for a while.
Then come back home just to sleep.
Sometimes, I didn't even come back.
I'd stay for days.
It felt easier there.
Comfortable.
Familiar.
Safe.
I was still trying to adjust.
Slowly.
In my own way.
It wasn't perfect.
But it was manageable.
At least…
Before everything changed.
One day, I came back home…
And saw two girls in the room.
I didn't know them.
So obviously, they were my roommate's guests.
They looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see them.
Apparently, one of them had gone to the same secondary school as my roommate.
Not long after I arrived, they left.
And honestly…
I was relieved.
I couldn't send them out.
That would have been rude.
So their leaving saved me the stress.
Or so I thought.
After they left, my roommate mentioned that the girls needed somewhere to stay.
I asked her what happened to their hostel.
And more importantly—
Why she was telling me.
She said their hostel was under renovation, so they needed a place temporarily.
Temporarily.
That word mattered.
I thought about it.
It was only for a week.
And I wasn't always around anyway.
So I agreed.
How bad could it be?
That was my first mistake.
Not long after, they came in with their things.
Settled in.
Like they belonged there.
But I didn't think much of it.
Instead…
I packed my own things and left.
Back to my friend's place.
I stayed there longer than usual this time.
More than a week.
By the time I returned, I expected the house to be empty again.
Quiet.
Back to normal.
But it wasn't.
They were still there.
And this time…
With more of their things.
I stood there for a moment, confused.
The agreement was one week.
So why were they still here?
My roommate wasn't around.
So I waited.
And waited.
Because I needed an explanation.
It was already difficult adjusting to a new environment.
And now—
I had two strangers living in my space?
It didn't sit well with me.
At all.
She came back later that evening.
I called her outside.
I didn't want to have that conversation in front of them.
I asked her why her friends were still in the house.
Why they hadn't left.
She started giving excuses.
Going around in circles.
Not saying anything directly.
And I stood there, listening.
Trying to process it.
I'm not someone who gets angry easily.
I make excuses for people.
It helps me stay calm.
So I started doing that again.
In my head.
Trying to justify her actions.
Trying to understand.
But this time…
It wasn't working.
I didn't want excuses.
I wanted answers.
I wasn't just uncomfortable anymore.
I wasn't just annoyed.
I was angry.
And I didn't like that feeling.
It sat heavily in my chest.
Sharp.
Unfamiliar.
But this time…
I didn't push it away.
So I went back inside.
And asked the girls directly.
Why were they still here?
They must have sensed my tone.
Because they didn't hesitate.
They explained everything.
They had suggested staying permanently.
And my roommate agreed.
One of them had already sent her share of the rent.
The other was waiting for me—
So she could give me mine.
That was when it hit me.
This wasn't a discussion.
It was a decision.
A decision made without me.
I wasn't being asked.
I was being informed.
And for the first time in a long while…
I felt angry.
Truly angry.
It felt like my space had been taken from me.
Like I didn't matter in a place I paid for.
I had already struggled to adjust to one person.
Now there were three.
Three strangers in my space.
No warning.
No agreement.
Nothing.
I didn't accept it.
I couldn't.
I told them clearly—
My roommate would refund the money.
And they would leave.
After that, I went back to my roommate.
Told her to refund them.
She started again.
Excuses.
Stories.
Avoiding the point.
But this time, I didn't let it slide.
When she realized I wasn't joking…
She finally said it.
She had already spent the money.
And she couldn't refund it anytime soon.
Not unless she found it somewhere else.
I didn't know what to feel.
It was like falling from a height.
Suddenly.
Unexpectedly.
One moment, everything was manageable.
The next…
Everything felt out of control.
And just like that…
the one place I thought I could control—
was no longer mine.