Some people are lucky enough to have great roommate experiences that are easygoing and fun. Unfortunately, not everyone is so fortunate. In today’s compilation, people share their most nightmarish stories with housemates—some so extreme they felt like scenes from a Hollywood film.
My roommate of 2 years suddenly vanished. She was a bright, cheerful girl. The police searched, but even her parents gave up hope. 5 years later, I was clearing out her room to sell the house. While moving the dresser, I found a hidden hole in the wall. I placed my hand and, to my horror, found a bunch of notes that kept repeating, “If I ever disappear, you need to urgently search for me at Jake’s cabin in the mountains.’’
Jake was a guy she’d been dating. He had a temper, but she stayed with him because she was madly in love. I vaguely remembered her mentioning how possessive and unpredictable he could be, but I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. We informed the police, but tracking Jake was impossible. The last anyone knew he had left for Europe, and too much time had passed since she disappeared. To this day, the memory of that letter haunts me.
In my sophomore year of college, my roommate and I had bunk beds. I had the top bunk, and he had the bottom bunk. If I was in bed, I could tell when he took his shoes off by the smell. He hardly showered, so he was a smelly dude.
He also had raging mental health issues that he refused to get help for. I’m talking about narcissist (nothing was ever his fault), manipulative, and a pathological liar. He moved out partway through the year, thankfully. And he was going into education. © celloman78 / Reddit
My roommate for one semester in college was the smelliest person I’ve ever met. His day would consist of drinking half a gallon of milk, then sitting in his room, whispering to himself in the dark while playing video games. He showered about twice a month if we were lucky, and every time I walked past his room to get to mine, I would gag from the smell.
It was the worst semester of my life, especially since I was dealing with that plus pneumonia during my winter abroad in Canada. © Toronto_Phil / Reddit
She would brush her long hair and clean out the brush. Then, to dispose of the hair, she would stuff it in the sink drain.
Normal people throw it in the trash. She clogged the sink constantly. © blackday44 / Reddit
We had a shared kitchen, the three of us. We had cleaning schedules, but they never followed them; they just piled it up until it was my turn. After numerous complaints that I was the only one cleaning, I stopped cleaning. Three weeks later, there was rotten food and fungi all over the kitchen, and even a cockroach infestation.
A cleaning company had to be hired, the costs of which were spread over the people living there. I objected to the bill on the grounds of my earlier complaints. They didn’t argue, and I did not have to pay. I even got compensation for eating out every night.
They got kicked out a week later. It was a win for me eventually, but a horrible time before that. © Mezame_Drgn / Reddit
I found Trevor through an online ad, and at first, living together was fine. But after a few weeks, strange things started happening. My food went missing, the thermostat was always cranked up, and once, I swore I heard him talking to someone late at night—though I knew he was alone.
One evening, I came home early and found him sitting in the dark, facing the wall, muttering to himself. I flipped on the lights, startled. He looked over at me, eyes hollow, and said, “You’re not supposed to see him.” Confused, I asked, “See who?” He smiled, but the room felt colder. “My other roommate.”
I had a roommate who refused to wear deodorant. He also worked in a labor-intensive job and went to the gym, so basically, he stunk a lot. He’d swear he showered twice a day, but no one ever witnessed that.
He then started scamming our other roommates (in a 4-bedroom apartment) by borrowing money and never, ever paying it back. Then he started skipping out on his share of the bills, and then the rent. Eventually, he got kicked out.
While he was there, we had this running joke that the safest place to hide our money from Mark (his name) was under the soap. © Overall_Draft_9416 / Reddit
He had severe, undiagnosed OCD. He had a laundry list of rituals that would consume his entire day and annoy me.
One of his rituals was to play a movie and music at the same time on his laptop and then go take a two-hour shower. We shared a room, so I would close his laptop when he left, and after his shower, he’d come out and ask me, “Why did you touch my laptop?”
I would tell him that the noise was distracting, and he would tell me to just use headphones. This happened every Tuesday and Thursday night. © Burrito_Loyalist / Reddit
When I moved in with Claire, everything seemed perfect—until I started hearing footsteps at night. They were faint at first, but then they’d stop right outside my door. One evening, I finally worked up the courage to ask Claire about it. She just smiled and said, “It’s probably just the house settling.”
But that night, as I lay in bed, I heard the footsteps again—this time, slower, deliberate. I held my breath, terrified, and then my bedroom door creaked open, revealing Claire standing there, her face pale and eyes wide. “It’s not the house,” she whispered, “it’s him.”
My older brother lived with me for a while when he was getting back on his feet. He had a pet snake, which he lost in my apartment several times. © Amy_G***linger / Reddit
I had nice porcelain dishes for fancy dinners that were left to me as an inheritance, along with everyday dishes. She went out of her way to reach for the porcelain dishes and then literally threw them into the sink, shattering them.
I spoke to her several times about it, and she would say, “It’s your fault for owning nice things.” She was a weird hippie type of person. So I packed them into a box and kept them in my room until the lease was up. © mencryforme5 / Reddit
She would come home, fill the fridge with a ton of food, then leave a couple of days later for months on end to stay with her 50-year-old boyfriend. Her food would sit in the fridge and rot, so I would have to toss it all out. She would complain that we ate her food when she would randomly show back up.
When she left to go to her boyfriend’s, she would hand me anywhere from $1,500 to $3,000 for her portion of rent for the coming months. I’d have to babysit her money, which made me paranoid. © Sirduckerton / Reddit
One day, I came home late and saw my roommate quickly entering her room, wrapped in a wet towel. I said hi, but she ignored me and avoided eye contact. I shrugged it off, assuming she hadn’t noticed me. 5 minutes later, I heard her coming home from outside. Confused, I asked, “Weren’t you just inside your bedroom?” She turned pale and told me to run immediately to the car, lock it, and call 911.
That day, I was horrified to discover that my roommate was schizophrenic. Sometimes she skips her medication, causing her to dissociate and become paranoid. In her dissociated state, she had left the house without realizing it and then re-entered, believing she was dealing with an intruder. This explained her odd behavior—ignoring me initially and then asking me to go to the car—thinking there was a stranger in our house when it was her all along.
I had been living with her for two months and hadn’t known this about her. I still love her and consider her a friend, but needless to say, I moved out quickly as I couldn’t feel safe living there anymore.
Our partners share our living space, and while we believe we understand them thoroughly, we may one day be taken aback by a concealed, unsettling aspect. This is the experience of the people featured in this article, who courageously shared their heartfelt stories with the online community.
