The Worst Roommate That Ever Lived

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I know, right?!

It hurts me, too. Those of you who know me, know how important and eminent my bed is to me. You see, I have this thing about people in my bed who are not me... My bed is a beautiful, beautiful thing. With my wonderful high thread count sheets, my heavenly down comforter, and my down pillows, nights are like sleeping in the clouds. I have no problems with people sitting on my bed. None whatsoever. But to pull down the sheets and to get into my beloved little slice of heaven on Earth is MURDER! How could she do it? Look how cruel she is! All entwined in my little fluffy cloud. There is a haunting look of satisfaction on her face.

You have your own bed, #2! A bed you claimed to be the most comfortable out of the three of ours! So why must you do this to me?!

She does it because she knows it shakes my very core...She rubbed her face in my sheets!! And then she laughed!! What an evil laugh it was! *sobs* I go through torture like this everyday of my life. I live in fear. It use to just be physical abuse. I could take that. The bruises healed. But this? No, I fear that I will never be the same after this.

That's it! I'm moving out.