The Roommate Copyright 2013 by Adam Bender www.adambenderwrites.

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PUBLISHED BY: Adam Bender on Scribd

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THE ROOMMATE Adam Bender

The front door squealed open and slammed shut. Dashs ears twitched violently. A minute ago the cat had been warm and happy, curled up on the bed with shut eyes and carefully tucked paws. Now his owner John was back and probably out-of-his-mind drunk. Dash was hungry, but not that hungry. Hed rather John hadnt come back until the morning. Sleep was important. Sams eyes stared hot at the ceiling fan. Hed told his roommate he had to get up for work at 6 a.m. tomorrow or good Godthat was today now, wasnt it? The alarm clock was glaring; the red numbers a hellish countdown to death and destruction. Should he get out of bed? No, the moron was probably too trashed to be reasoned with. Dash yawned and fell back asleep.

Sam was still grumbling when another door slammed and a faint electric hum replaced the silence. The shower whooshed into action. I hope you slip and break your neck, you drunk, Sam muttered. Muttering was all Sam could do at this stage. He wasnt going to wait for John to come out of the shower and dress just to yell at himit was late and he had to get up early! No, itd be better to just go back to sleep and leave the jerk a nasty letter tomorrow. A smile crept across Sams face. He was already writing the note in his head. Dear jackass, it began. Sam fell asleep. Meanwhile, Dash rolled over and fell off Johns queen-size mattress. The shock was intense, so he scurried under the bed to hide. Dash poked his head out. A sudden, loud thunk from the bathroom spooked him back undercover. Sam missed it. He might as well have been dead. Hours later, the alarm clock was going nuts. Sam snapped up from his pillow and slammed it into submission. He breathed hard, roared in fury and shook the sleep away like excess water. With the morning ritual complete, he fell into intense concentration. Something was off. But what? He had it: the bathroom was humming and trickling. But that didnt make sense, he thought. John must have
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come in around 3. He couldnt still be in the shower. Had he woken up and taken another one? The truth hit Sam like a pile of bricks. John must have brought that girl back with him. Hed been talking last night about some blonde he was hoping to bang. They must have gotten drunk and come back togetherthat would definitely be a John thing to do. What a bastard, Sam thought. Now hed have to wait before he could use the bathroom. Sams Morning System SMS, he called itwould have to be done in reverse. Sam opened the fridge and gasped in horrorno milk! Theyd finished it the morning previous, Sam knew, but John said hed pick some up on his way home from work. Instead, apparently, he just went to a party, got drunk and brought a girl home. Sam decided he would include this transgression in the letter that began Dear jackass. As for breakfast, hed have to eat some toast with peanut butter. It wasnt Raisin Bran Crunch, but it would hold him until lunch. The shower was still going when Sam finished, so he opened the comics page of the newspaper. The unproductiveness of this activity made him panic two strips after Get Fuzzy, so he packed his bag for work instead. Eventually Sam had completed every preparatory procedure he could think of, including writing the nasty letter, which no longer began Dear Jackass, but instead the more civil John:. And yet still the shower trickled on. There was only one option left. Sam knocked on the bathroom door. John, he said.
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Nothing. John! he yelled. Again, nothing. So Sam walked over to his roommates bedroom door and started over. John! he screamed. The roommate yet again failed to answer. Sam twisted the doorknob and found it unlocked. John was nowhere to be found. There wasnt even a sleepy bimbo. A sudden yowl made Sam jump. Dash darted out from beneath Johns bed and moved for the kitchen. Sam followed him. He shook his head disgustedly. Dash was Johns cat, but Sam was the one who fed him most of the time. He probably should have included that in the letter. Maybe I should have opened with Dear jackass, Sam told Dash as he poured a cup of Whiskas into Dashs bowl. Your owners a real jackass, you know that? Dash crunched ravenously upon his dry food. Sam liked Dash. Sure the tuxedo cat enjoyed putting holes in his sofa, but he was a good listener. I did put a colon after Johns name this time, rather than a comma, Sam continued. Colons mean business. That should at least show him Im not messing around. Dash munched on. This was the tastiest bowl yet, the cat thought. Sam walked again to the bathroom. The shower streamed on. Suddenly he was screaming again, only this time about wasting water and the threat of global warming.

The latter was intended to get a rise out of his roommateAl Gore was one of Johns heroes. But it too failed to elicit a response. There was but one option left. Sam put his hand on the knob and found the door unlocked. That figured, Sam thoughtJohn was a pretty gross guy. He closed his eyesGod forbid hed see John nakedand pushed open the door. The room smelled funny. John? he whined. Sam slipped a little, so he snuck a peek. He was standing in a pool of blood. Oh God! Sam shrieked. He looked up and saw a body slumped over the tub, feet in the bath and head cold against the tile floor. Oh God! He spun away and slammed the door behind him. What the hell?! he screamed at Dash. What the hell?! Dash gazed back at him and licked his chops. Sam paused and took another deep breath. He hadnt gotten a good look at the bodymaybe it wasnt really John. He opened the door again. Unless things had changed significantly since Sam had last laid eyes on John, this corpse was not his. No, it was clearly a large-breasted woman, and her clothes lay clumped on top of the toilet seat. The blood emanated from her head, oozing just beneath a mop of blond hair. Sam didnt recognize her. Wait a second, Sam thought. Was this the girl John had been seeking intercourse with? The one Sam had just
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thirty minutes earlier guessed had come home with him? Maybe things had gone horribly wrong between them and they got into a fight? But none of this made sense. He hadnt heard anything last night beyond the door opening and the shower turning on. If it was murder, he should have heard. Unlesswas the shower loud enough to cover up the sounds of struggle? Sam slapped himself in the face. Why was he all the sudden accusing his roommate of murder? He hadnt liked the guy since their second month living together, sure, but the guy never seemed all that dangerous. He slept around, sure, but the man wasnt a killer. Or was he? Hed tried to avoid John the past few weeks; maybe he had changed in the interim. In any case, there was a dead body in the bathroomand John was nowhere to be found. Sam stopped staring at the dead girl and moved for his bedroom. He got his cell phone and called John. The call went straight to voicemail. Yo! it greeted. This is John. Leave a message. John never had his cell phone on, Sam thought angrily as he closed his phone. He would have slammed it shut, but worried he might scratch the screen. Sam heard a distant, echoing meow. Dash was in the bathroom. Dash, no! yelled Sam, sprinting back.

Dash was perched on the sink, overlooking the red pool of blood. The cat was cleanhe must have jumped the pond. Bad cat! Sam yelled. His shoes squished against the blood on the way to the sink. Sam grabbed Dash, turned around and discovered his footing was gone. The cat squirted back into the hallway; Sam squawked and flapped his arms like a decapitated hen. His balance finally depleted, Sam toppled onto the corpse. His hands and knees sank into the red goo. The doorbell rang. Sam froze. Then there was a knock. Police! Open up! Sam stayed frozen. Blood lapped up and down his wrists. We know youre in there. Open up! Hello! Sam managed finally. Is there a problem? Hello! the voice called back. It was masculine. Neighbors heard yelling. We need you to open the door. That was me, Sam said, struggling for a good lie. II dropped some expensiveumglassware He cursed to himself. Why couldnt they have come five minutes ago, when things didnt look so bad? We still need to come in and make sure everythings all right, sir, the voice replied. Dont you need a warrant? Sam asked hopefully. There was a pause, as if the policeman was considering. Nope. Ok, Im coming, Sam said. He struggled to his feet, rinsed off his hands and limped to the door.
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They were already inside when Sam got there, and gasped when they saw him. Sams hands were no longer red, but the same could not be said for the rest of his body. Put your hands in the air! yelled one. Sam did as he was told. Now put them behind your back! he said, slapping on a pair of cuffs. The other cop, a woman with short brown hair, pulled out her gun and tiptoed into the living room. Theres no one else here! Sam gasped. I can explain everything! Neither officer replied. The policewoman glanced into the kitchen, then into Sams bedroom. Finally, she opened the bathroom door. Oh God, she groaned. Were going to have to take this psycho in. Sam whimpered. Dash rubbed against his leg and purred. The police didnt get around to interrogating Sam until late in the afternoon. He was shivering and miserable. Sams interrogator, a rather thin man in a hat, took another puff of his cigarette. Murder makes you pretty giddy, doesnt it? Sams smile fell away. No! Sam cried. I swear to you, I had nothing to do with any of this. Then who did? I dont know! Sam spit. I told you, I was asleep!

But you have a theory, smiled the man in the hat. I can see it in your eyes. Sam coughed. Why was this hat-wearing man looking into his eyes? Yes, he said finally. Tell me. Well, my roommate John went out to some party last night, and hed told me he was planning to hit on some girl, because hes a jerk like that, and So you think your roommate came back with the girl in the middle of the night, brought her into the bathroom, turned on the shower and murdered her? Um, yes, he said. Essentially... The questioner laughed heartily, dropping his cancer stick in the process. You dont like your roommate very much, do you? he asked, stamping out the lit end of the object with his foot. Sams voice was small. I mean, I used to. Im just messing with you, he laughed. Kid, youre already off the hook. What? Sam whispered, wiping away the tears. You got him? The man removed the cigarette from his mouth and chortled. Him? he repeated. No, there was no him. Youre still to blame for the girl ending up in your bathroom, though we cant convict your ass for it. What? No one killed her. She was drunkfell in the shower and cracked her head is all.
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But she was in my Did you know that except for the numbers, the floors in your building are identical? the man interrupted with strange excitement. Well, it so happens that this girl lived in the apartment directly above yours. And we have a witnessone of your neighborswho says the girl followed him off the elevator instead of taking it to her own floor. Wait, Sam coughed. Youre saying she just got confused and went in the wrong room? The detective nodded with apparent satisfaction. But how? Sam demanded. How would she have gotten into my apartment? The officers that came to your apartment reported that your door was unlocked, he said, pausing to let the words sink in. You really ought to be more careful. Id imagine your roommate would appreciate it if you were a little more responsible. The End

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About the Author Adam Bender writes fiction that explores modern-day social and political fears with action, romance and humor. A journalist by day, Adam has reported extensively on technology and the international privacy debate. Adam is a senior journalist for Computerworld, Techworld and CIO in Sydney, Australia. He previously covered US politics on Capitol Hill for the esteemed Washington trade journal, Communications Daily. He lives with his wife in Sydney, Australia. For more info, visit Adam's home page: www.adambenderwrites.com

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Also by Adam Bender

Struggling to conform in a surveillance society? WE, THE WATCHED is a dystopian novel by Adam Bender about what happens when one man forgets the propaganda. Seven wakes up without memory in a nation that administers a Watched List of its own citizens. He meets people who accept invasive surveillance by the
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government and forced uniformity by the church as necessary safeguards for protecting the homeland. When the amnesiac struggles to fit in, he learns quickly that opposition is heresyand punishable by death. Theres action, romance, and social commentary woven into a brilliant story with an amazing plot twist near the end, writes David Broughton in the American Chronicle. Its science fiction in the way that Orwells 1984 or Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury are considered science fiction The writing is nearly on par with these geniuses of the written word. The dialog was excellent and the situations seemed driven by curiosity, which is a great way to pull you into an adventure, said Elizabeth M. for Readers Favorite. The author captures the imagination of the reader creating an addicting story. Get it for just $2.99 at all popular eBook retailers. Please visit www.wethewatched.com for more info.

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