I have never met my roommate.

His door was always locked and he never spent time in the common areas. The only signs of life were the light under his door and the cycle of labelled foods in the kitchen being used and replaced.

It was odd at first, but I grew used to it. I might have even considered our relationship friendly, in an odd way. He communicated to me with notes, always typed for clarity. I responded with the neatest handwriting I could manage. He offered me the use of his kitchenware, even replacing my old knife set. His note said he’d noticed that the wooden block was moulding and the blades were dull.

He never pushed for a formal lease, which was a relief as I was supposed to be the only tenant.

I thought I was lucky to have found him so easily. I posted online and his was the most polite response, and said he had the deposit in cash, so I agreed. I deleted the post immediately after, in case my landlord found out. Of course, I was away the only day he could move in, so I left the door unlocked. Why, yes I do think I told him the dates I was unavailable first.

I don’t know where he has moved now. I’m not sure when he moved out. I only noticed when I saw the door was cracked open and got curious. It was so clean, apart from those dark stains on the carpet.

No, I don’t know what happened to my old knives.

You believe me, don’t you?