My housemates from hell…

The university/college years are meant to be the ‘best of your life’. That’s what they say.

There’s the partying and making new friends, all while you transform from an innocent adolescent into a responsible adult.

Many students, too, will find that it is their first time living with people outside of family on a full-time basis, which, in most cases, is how you make your life-long friends, and create a wealth of good memories to look fondly back on.

However, for some, this is not the case – and ESPECIALLY not for me.

I moved to Derry to study my foundation degree in North West Regional College, and, as I wasn’t an Ulster University student, I wasn’t entitled to hall’s accommodation.

Fortunately, though, I WAS able to locate a student house in the city through a local agency, and that was me sorted.

I was so excited to start anew; following my dream to reside in such an historical city.

I was looking forward to meeting new people and enjoy different experiences outside of Omagh, where I have grown up and lived for all my life.

The move

When I moved in, things were quiet in the house at first. Thinking about it, there wasn’t much interaction with the housemates at all at this point.

Until, one night, I suggested that we all go for a night out to a local bar. It was great at first, but little did I know that this would be the beginning of the end for a particular attempted friendship.

In the few months after, divisions popped up quickly.

There were disagreements in heating arrangements – even though oil was limited – and problems with who was doing dishes…

Fair enough, though. These ARE all standard arguments students have when figuring out how to cope with living with strangers.

But then it started getting worse, with one night in particular flipping the civility on its head, and destroying any hope of relations in the house.

INTRUDER

I had gone out with a few classmates one February night, not long before my birthday. I arrived home around 3am to find that someone has clearly been in my bedroom.

I entered my room again, to find that my lights were turned on, and items in my schoolbag had been removed, and left on the floor.

At first, I thought it was my own doing, but these actions were uncharacteristic of me.

I always turn the light off due to concerns about electric costs, and I NEVER take out my hard drive from my bag, as, I know if I did, I’d forget to put it back, and wouldn’t have it for class the next day.

Then it clicked – my housemate had asked for my hard drive a week prior. This housemate – umm, we’ll call him ‘Sam’ – asked me to film some scenes for his coursework on a few occasions; each time insisting that I give him my hard drive.

‘BECOME WEARY’

But each time he asked, I refused. And not because I have anything interesting on there (other than coursework, footage and countless photos), or anything to hide.

To be honest, I thought his question was odd due to how intent he was on gaining access to my hard drive, and I questioned if the footage he needed was even for his coursework – or just a ploy to get this device off me.

After this night, the house became tense, and everyone living there had become weary of this guy.

It got to the point where I was nervous to simply leave my room.

And this meant that I would avoid going out as much as possible – and especially when I had valuables in my room. My housemates were the same.

SPLITTING THE BILL

Mercifully, things calmed down for a while… until they didn’t.

And I must preface this by saying that my ‘friendship’ with Sam was still on the rocks, but we spoke to each other when we needed to.

On this occasion, we needed to speak because of our electric bill.

We split it five ways – £30 each, and, as I had my name on the bill, I asked them to give me the money by the end of the week.

I arrived on Monday, and ‘Sam’ had just left.

Another housemate, we’ll call her‘ Mary’, said in our house group chat that she left her £30 in the drawer under some table covers on Sunday night – but when I went to the drawer no money was found.

I texted ‘Mary’ immediately to tell her it wasn’t there… And both our hearts sank as we realised – the only person in the house between me arriving and ‘Mary’ leaving, was ‘Sam’.

This infuriated us: A second theft in the house by the same perpetrator.

We took to him and grilled him about both occasions, and he argued about being ‘demonised’.

But, interestingly, did not deny either allegation of stealing the harddriver – or the money.

The £30 never appeared.

And, after this, he spent the majority of the last months of his tenancy at his family home; returning only for the rare days he had to be at university.

We actually celebrated the day he moved out.

The year of fear was over, and we were, again, hopeful that come September, we would have normal, friendly housemates that could keep their hands to themselves.

But, this was not the case…

l Make sure to check out next week’s Tyrone Herald for Part Two of ‘My Housemates from Hell’… As things go from bad to worse!