The Mysterious Disappearance of Hiroshima

I came home after another stinking day pathology and realize, a little hazily, that Hiroshima's shoes are missing. Slightly carsick after peering down a microscope which was driven by someone else for five hours, I think it odd, but figure that perhaps she has packed them in her room. Hiroshima did not ascend to the giddy heights of being Slinky's Best Housemate Ever for nothing, and I just thought she had gone on a massive cleaning spree and she had moved them for more efficient vacuuming.

I drag myself into the shower and try and wash out the deadly pain of pathology from my head, which is why I don't immediately notice that Hiroshima's shampoo and conditioner are missing. When I do, I thought that perhaps she has gone to spend the night with her friend-with-benefits. But this, together with the missing shoes, fills me with a sense of disquiet akin to when you're strapped into the roller coaster and it starts moving just when you remember you're scared of heights.

I step out of the shower, and that's when I notice that everything of hers is gone from the bathroom. No towel, no cup, no toothbrush or toothpaste, no facial foam, nothing. I start to panic a bit, but tell myself that there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, even as an obscure sense of guilt creeps up on me. I tell myself that I will check her room, and if her door is locked, she's fine, it's all there, and I haven't somehow unknowingly driven her away.

I put my hand on the doorknob and expect it find resistance, but it opens easily and I stand at the threshold of her room and gape.

It's completely empty. Everything's gone. It was like she was never there.

The quilt has been folded neatly and put away. Her hangers are all gone. The closets are empty. The bed has been stripped, the carpets vacuumed. I open drawers. All empty. I run out into the kitchen, feeling oddly frightened. Her side of the pantry is completely empty. The fridge has been cleared of her stuff. I open kitchen drawers. Her chopsticks are gone.

I run around the house for a while in a mindless panic.

She's gone.

Her phone doesn't ring. There is no response to SMS. I feel like I've been dropped into the Twilight Zone.

I remember the last time I saw her, two nights ago, when she came home and I happened to be out of my room, and I said "Hello!" and she staggered a little and said, "OoooOOooohhh HALLOOOOOO Sleeeeeenkeeeee!! Eeehhhh I very sorry but I cannot talk now. I dreeenk too much with Friend!" and then promptly staggered to her room and disappeared.

I didn't get to say goodbye.

I haven't been seeing much of her this year. I've been leaving for rotations she wakes up, and she's out when I come back, and when she comes back, I'm in my room, studying, because it's too cold to be outside. I've been an absent housemate. An maybe I wasn't there for her enough.

And I'm going to miss her.