Be Afraid
My housemate Mo noticed it today. My China housemate’s eerie silent hatred towards me. It seeps through each time she responds to my greetings to her everyday. Every “Hello!” and “Good morning!” is always greeted by a sullen curt ‘Hi.”… followed by a I-really-don’t-want-interaction-with-you-but-i-need-to-reply-to-your-greeting face.
Until now, I really can’t put a finger to why she treats me extra cold compared to everyone else. *NO, it is not because of her discovering this blog.*… That’s not what she does online anyways… She uses the computers in the library because there are others around “to make sure I won’t be out of control”. Hmm… suspicious.
Everytime me and Paul walk into the kitchen and start to engage in the lively banter with the rest of the housies, her face would drop, she’d go silent, whip her boiled vegetables off the hob, and slide out of the kitchen. I’d really like to know what goes on in her mind. It’s the silent ones you have to watch out for. Probably externalizing the blame unto me and plotting something. Must start moving my food around. So she never spots what’s mine…never ‘gets’ the pattern. I hope I don’t wake up 20 years down and find out I was being slowly poisoned with Uranium or something… PARANOIA BIG TIME.
It’s not normal. Through initial conversations, I’ve noticed that her perceptions towards the world is very different. Like it belongs in a different quiet world. Quietly dangerous. Then there are the moments when she’d stand at the kitchen window and cackle at car accidents, or when she was so excited to watch a documentary on how to kill George Bush, or made random comments during Property Tv shows that the prospective house buyers will die in a landslide… or better yet, “If they got murdered, no one will know”
I even remember the time she came into the kitchen and said she was so hungry, she could eat me, “You will be yummy as a baby…nyum nyum…”… Or the time my ex turned on the tap to wash dishes and she scowled at him, “Don’t waste water”.
Or that time me and Paul caught her with a deranged grin on her face, gleefully staring at my Cypriot housemate’s back while she walked into the kitchen. IT WAS SO SCARY I SWEAR.
The only time I had a proper conversation with her was at the beginning of the year, when she told me she hated Chinese people and they made her very nervous if they tried talking to her. That was after she openly berated the American people for being ‘too open, ignorant, rude and vulgar’…right in front of two Americans in a bus. Presumably Americans because
a) They wore ‘College of Nevada’ and ‘Ohio University’ shirts and
b) They were glaring at her through the whole journey.
Our last normal conversation was on love and finding the right one in the world, to which I gave her a hug at the end of, and left for London with Paul and Felicia for New Year’s.
Then it stopped.
The only two bits of communication with her after is just me going, “Oh, why are the curtains in the kitchen drawn? It’s so lovely outside!”, abruptly cut by “I don’t like sunlight.”
And that time I thought I was being helpful, “When you boil vegetables, that takes the nutrients out”. She hasn’t spoken to me since.
And until now, my stand on her being capable of something REALLY sinister still…stands (can’t find another word…my engerand is deteriorating). There’s just this dark aura lurking within. I am actually afraid of her now. Ever since the V-Tech tragedy. Especially when I’m alone in the kitchen with her and she’s yielding her vegetable knife.
Must make sure the doors are locked tonight before I go to sleep. With pepper spray under my pillow.
Garlic cloves around my neck.
Until now, I really can’t put a finger to why she treats me extra cold compared to everyone else. *NO, it is not because of her discovering this blog.*… That’s not what she does online anyways… She uses the computers in the library because there are others around “to make sure I won’t be out of control”. Hmm… suspicious.
Everytime me and Paul walk into the kitchen and start to engage in the lively banter with the rest of the housies, her face would drop, she’d go silent, whip her boiled vegetables off the hob, and slide out of the kitchen. I’d really like to know what goes on in her mind. It’s the silent ones you have to watch out for. Probably externalizing the blame unto me and plotting something. Must start moving my food around. So she never spots what’s mine…never ‘gets’ the pattern. I hope I don’t wake up 20 years down and find out I was being slowly poisoned with Uranium or something… PARANOIA BIG TIME.
It’s not normal. Through initial conversations, I’ve noticed that her perceptions towards the world is very different. Like it belongs in a different quiet world. Quietly dangerous. Then there are the moments when she’d stand at the kitchen window and cackle at car accidents, or when she was so excited to watch a documentary on how to kill George Bush, or made random comments during Property Tv shows that the prospective house buyers will die in a landslide… or better yet, “If they got murdered, no one will know”
I even remember the time she came into the kitchen and said she was so hungry, she could eat me, “You will be yummy as a baby…nyum nyum…”… Or the time my ex turned on the tap to wash dishes and she scowled at him, “Don’t waste water”.
Or that time me and Paul caught her with a deranged grin on her face, gleefully staring at my Cypriot housemate’s back while she walked into the kitchen. IT WAS SO SCARY I SWEAR.
The only time I had a proper conversation with her was at the beginning of the year, when she told me she hated Chinese people and they made her very nervous if they tried talking to her. That was after she openly berated the American people for being ‘too open, ignorant, rude and vulgar’…right in front of two Americans in a bus. Presumably Americans because
a) They wore ‘College of Nevada’ and ‘Ohio University’ shirts and
b) They were glaring at her through the whole journey.
Our last normal conversation was on love and finding the right one in the world, to which I gave her a hug at the end of, and left for London with Paul and Felicia for New Year’s.
Then it stopped.
The only two bits of communication with her after is just me going, “Oh, why are the curtains in the kitchen drawn? It’s so lovely outside!”, abruptly cut by “I don’t like sunlight.”
And that time I thought I was being helpful, “When you boil vegetables, that takes the nutrients out”. She hasn’t spoken to me since.
And until now, my stand on her being capable of something REALLY sinister still…stands (can’t find another word…my engerand is deteriorating). There’s just this dark aura lurking within. I am actually afraid of her now. Ever since the V-Tech tragedy. Especially when I’m alone in the kitchen with her and she’s yielding her vegetable knife.
Must make sure the doors are locked tonight before I go to sleep. With pepper spray under my pillow.
Garlic cloves around my neck.
posted by shuey @ 22:49
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