[ WP ] Slowly start to realize that you have a roommate .

You start counting your cigarettes when you try to stop smoking. That's when Sal knew. When his cigarettes started disappearing. 
 
 That was the clue that lead from'there may be something weird going on' to'someone's been breaking into my home.' 
 
 He was on the phone with Janie, right after getting home from work. He got the eggs frying in the pan, the rice in the microwave, the phone squeezed between his shoulder and his ear, running from one side of the house to the other. 
 
 Janie was going on as usual, `` —and that horrible couch of your new apartment, when are you going to get new stuff?'' 
 
 He grabbed the cigarette pack and patted it on the bottom. A single cigarette came out. `` Janie, this is a new apartment. I'll redecorate when I have time.'' 
 
 `` I do n't even know why you had to move. And that's such a creepy neighborhood. You know you'll –'' 
 
 But Sal was n't listening anymore. `` I'll call you back, Janie.'' He rested the phone on the table. 
 
 He had ten cigarettes. When he left for work, there were ten cigarettes in the pack. He was sure. 
 
 There were eight now. 
 
 He thought back on all the other weird things that had been happening. He was pretty sure there was a lamp by 
 his couch. An ugly blue lamp that was n't there anymore. That was the first thing, the first time he noticed 
 something might have been wrong. 
 
 Still. He had convinced himself that maybe he threw it away drunk one day. Or maybe Janie did it. That's the kind of thing she'd do. Or maybe there had never been a lamp there in the first place. 
 
 Then food started going missing from his fridge. Then – he could n't be sure, but… was n't his blanket dark green? 
 It looked light green now, as if someone had bleached it. 
 
 A vase had gone too, from the balcony. A vase with dead plants inside that was there the day he moved in, he was 
 sure. And he did n't throw it out. And he asked Janie, when he noticed it. She remembered the vase too, but swore she did n't touch it. 
 
 And now the cigarettes. He had counted them before he left, he was sure. 
 
 Someone was breaking into his home when he was n't there. 
 
 Or worse. When he was. 
 
 & nbsp; 
 
 That night, he decided to make a test. He plucked a single hair from his head. He went for the front door, kneeled and, careful, glued one edge of the hair on the door frame, stretched it across the crack and glued the other to the door. Then he went to bed. 
 
 Sometime during the night, a sound woke him up. A low rumble, like someone had dropped something. He got up. 
 Quiet as he could, he grabbed his pistol on the locked drawer, opened his bedroom door and headed for the living room. In the dark, the fumbled for the front door. He kneeled. With his phone, he shot a light at bottom. The hair was broken. 
 
 Then he heard it again. From the living room, just behind him. Another thud. He turned around and saw the 
 silhouette, standing right there, something in its hand. The shape was small, he could n't make out much more 
 than that. 
 
 The shape rose the object in its hand towards Sal as soon as it saw him, but Sal was faster. 
 
 He shot once, twice, three times. On the fourth time, the fire flash of the blast illuminated the room enough for 
 him to see the golden, long hair on the silhouette as it fell down to the floor. 
 
 He fumbled for the light switch. When the lights came on, Janie's body was already on its way to stiff, her eyes 
 frozen dead. A pool of blood expanding in a circle from her torso. 
 
 He stepped towards her in a trance. He dropped the gun without even noticing it. 
 
 The guest room door came open with a low creek. Several of his other coworkers were wearing birthday hats and 
 holding gift boxes. 
 
 He looked back at his girlfriend Janie. A lovely rose rested in the middle of scattered dirt and a beautiful, broken vase by her side. 
 
 `` We – we thought we'd prank you,'' Sam, from accounting, said, holding the cake. `` Janie had the keys so… so 
 she'd take your furniture, a little at a time. So we could give you new stuff… she said… she said you'd like it.'' 
 
 Behind Sam, Meredith from Legal was smoking one of Sal's cigarettes, her eyes wide like the moon. Mark from Human Resources had a beautiful lamp all wrapped up on his lap, sat down on the bed. 
 
 By Sal's feet, Janie coughed. He looked, startled. Their eyes met. 
 
 And then she died for real. 
 
 _____________ 
 
 *Happy St. Patrick's day! For more things everyone finds horrifying and i find funny, check out /r/psycho_alpaca = ) * 

