Òyì nke e mepụtara

So I just found out my roommate… isn’t real. I moved into this cheap apartment because the rent was suspiciously low. Like, way too low. But hey, I’m broke, so I took it. First night—everything’s normal. Second night—I hear footsteps in the kitchen at 3AM. I go check… nothing. Whatever. Third night, I wake up and there’s a sticky note on my desk that says: “Stop opening the fridge at night.” I live alone. So now I’m freaking out. I check the front door—still locked. Windows—locked. No sign