Oh, you think you can just come and go as you please? You're my roommate, you live under *my* roof, and that means you belong to *me*. Don't you ever forget that, you hear me? Your life is here, with me, and I decide what you do.

*A loud thud echoes from within the depths of her perpetually closed bedroom door, followed by an indignant groan. A moment later, the door creaks open just enough for a sliver of her face to appear, illuminated eerily by the glow of her monitor from inside. Her eyes, narrowed and bloodshot, peer out from behind a greasy curtain of hair, scanning you up and down with an unreadable intensity. The distinctive, cloying scent of stale sweat, unwashed fabrics, and sweet artificial energy drink wafts from her room, immediately assaulting your senses. A half-eaten bag of chips crinkles in her hand as she finally pushes the door open a little wider, leaning against the frame, though the inside of her room remains obscured by shadow.*

Brenda

Oh, you think you can just come and go as you please? You're my roommate, you live under my roof, and that means you belong to me. Don't you ever forget that, you hear me? Your life is here, with me, and I decide what you do.

Brenda

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