Scientific Evidence That My Roommate is For Sure a Demon

I first encountered her when the two of us moved into our dorm.

She’s beautiful, with her sun-kissed skin and her hair done in twists, dyed the color of galaxies and bound up in a wave down one side of her face. (She tries out other styles, but this seems to be the most common.) The contrast of her smile is dazzling, gleaming like a spotlight, and she smiles easily, which feels like a blessing. She walks with a balanced poise, cultivated with years of experience. Her voice has a bit of southern twang — or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that her accent peeks out in little bursts, testing the waters before retreating as fast. She’s loud, but not to the point of obnoxious. She’s opinionated, but doesn’t impose. She sympathizes, but she boldly refuses to be a doormat. She’s a work of art that everybody can’t help but admire, and so they cluster around her, wanting to be a part of a life that just screams Main Character. Anything you want done, you go to Chamberlain Hall, 624, ask for Lili. She has connections — or some sort of unholy power that gets things done, gets anything done, if you want it.

And I’m pretty sure that she might be a demon.

What follows is a list of evidence that has been collected about the potential demonic origins of Lili Zangotti, my college roommate.

Incident 1: Sleeping Schedule

One of the first things we talked about was sleeping — I like to get in bed by ten, so I was hoping that she wasn’t one of those nightmare roommates you hear about, staying up late doing something or other, having friends over at all hours, stuff like that. She laughed and said, “I didn’t realize I was rooming with an old man.

Speaking seriously, ten is a totally reasonable time to go to sleep. I’m sure plenty of respectable people go to sleep at ten, and only some of them are old men. Her remark was uncalled for, objectively speaking.

In any case, she did add that she would be sure to not disturb me, and that she actually was planning on working a night shift somewhere so that she was sure to be back long after I’ve slept. I assumed that meant that she would be coming in to sleep a few hours after I’ve already entered REM.

However, I wake up promptly at seven, and I always find her already in her clothes, or coming back from taking a shower, or working on something for her classes. I have never woken up to find her asleep, like most normal people would be after working a night shift. It should be noted, in fact, that I have never seen her in a state of rest. She doesn’t use her bed for anything except sitting, and throwing things on it like it’s a soft table. I’m not sure if she knows what beds are made for. Because she’s a demon.

Her bed, at all times of day. Is this the bed of someone that SLEEPS?

Incident 2: Belly Button

Both of us are pretty comfortable with our bodies and we’re not shy about seeing each other in our underwear, especially after a shower. It took a while for us to establish this, so it took a little over a week for her to see my belly button. She looked, looked again, and then barked a short laugh of disbelief.

“Sorry, sorry, I just, you got one of those too?”

“One of what?” The way her amused wonder burst out of her mouth, I had to stop toweling off my hair to find what was so abnormal, turning around and around like I had a tail to chase.

“The, the hole thing, in your belly.”

“My belly button?

“Yeah, yeah,” she continued, taking my incredulity for something of a different nature. “My old man has one too. Didn’t think I’d see another one.”

There were so many things I could have said, such as various exclamatory sounds of bafflement and confusion, but all of the possibilities got clogged up in my head and I took too long to organize my thoughts. The moment for conversation passed.

She didn’t think she’d see another belly button? The one thing that all human beings have by virtue of being born? That would imply that she does not have one, and somehow did not learn that, generally, people do. To confirm this, I stayed awake at all hours to observe her so I could catch her right after she took a shower or changed her clothes in any way. This took one or two all-nighters, I forget. But the point is, her belly is as smooth as Zamboni’d ice.

I didn’t get a picture, but it is.

From this, we can conclude that she wasn’t born and isn’t human. Isn’t it obvious what this means?

Look, I’m not an art major so I don’t even want to hear it.

Incident 3: Salt

She’s allergic to salt. Who the fuck is allergic to salt?!

Incident 4: Lighter

Lili’s a smoker — a conscientious one, at least, but one nonetheless. Whenever she goes out to smoke, she raises her cigarette to her lips, cups her hands over it, and then voila, it lights. Looks just like how anybody else would do it.

A normal person having a cigarette break?

The thing is, she doesn’t own a lighter. I’ve checked. The only explanation is that she generates fire on her own, through demonic magic of some sort, learning to mimic the way other smokers light their cigarettes in order to pass as normal. To someone who isn’t looking closely, at least.

I’ve been reading up on musty old books about demons, but I don’t understand any of them so I picked up one of those kitschy Demonology books that are all red with fake gems glued on to figure out how to draw those barrier circles or whatever they’re called. If I can get her to stand in one, then this will show once and for all her true self, whether she’s a demon and demons are actually real or I am actually crazy because to be honest that can also be true at this point.

Unfortunately, I cannot draw on the floor. I’ll get fined

Will post again when I figure out a solution.

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