Roommate Just Fully Nocturnal Now

You started off the year great. During NSO, the two of you were thick as thieves, going from sweaty basement to sweaty living room to sweaty basement as only the most ignorant of freshmen could.

You went to dining halls, and free events, and sit on your beds as the lovely golden sunlight was streaming in your windows, shining into a room that would never be this clean again (even after moving out, the stains from the disgusting purple drink will never fade). 

But then — after fall break — you noticed a difference. Your wonderful “froomie” had changed since going home. She began to skip classes and to stay out late with that boy Ben from ZBT. She would come back and do work well into the early hours, and you were fine with it. The two of you still had your daily breakfast dates, and you still sat out in the sun and let it warm the darkening bags under your eyes. 

And then Thanksgiving came. Since then, you’ve noticed something...different about her.

Her skin, once perfectly tanned like a fresh Rotisserie chicken, has gone pale and flavorless like the mashed potatoes your mother insists were “seasoned lightly.” She has skipped all her classes, and , even though they’re engineering classes, the lack of guilt spiral is still troubling. Her eyes are filled with pupils blown out, like those of the racoons who used to circle your home, greedy little paws reaching out for everything you love –

Oh no. 

She’s gone Nocturnal!

How could you not have seen this coming. You really think? Surely there were signs? Somewhere along the way, a cry for help, a longing for the dark, humid nights over the cloudy, humid days of Penn Life – somewhere there must have been a hint?

And now, you walk through your dorm with trepidation, knowing that she’ll be there all day, asleep. But when the moon rises, God forbid any person be in her presence.

She hisses when you open the blinds in the day, and the last time you attempted to open a window – the scratches still haven’t healed. 

It’s too late to switch rooms. Better just to give up and give in. Maybe you can learn to love studying under your covers with a little candle like a Small French Oprhan Boy from the 1800s. 

embrasse les ténèbres mon amour - c'est ton sang vital maintenant.