I disliked my roommate in our second year of university for a long time.

Why?
Because she was obsessed with trash!

The only things you'd find in our room's trash bin were really used nylons that could no longer be washed for re-use, snacks nylons, and any other form of trash that had absolutely no chance of being recycled.

She was always digging up plastics and nylons to wash and keep.

One evening after I ordered for a smoothie and had finished consuming it, I threw it's cup in the trash only to have my roommate sprint across the room to take it out.

I tried to wrestle it from her, but her grip was way too strong.
So I gave up and let her just do her thing as usual.

She washed it throughly before adding it to her ever growing pile of "junk reusables".
She wasn't even using them.

Now this wasn't some Save The Climate habit.
She was OBSESSED with trash!

She'd come back from lectures hauling garbage bags filled with plastics and nylons she found on campus.

Then she'd sort them out before adding them to her pile.

I once asked her if she wanted to sell them to earn some cash but she only smiled before shaking her head in the negative.

Every weekend she would hire a cab, take out everything she piled up for that week into the cab, and take off to God knew where.

She was a really quite person too.
Hardly spoke more than ten sentences to me in a day.
I had met her parents twice and by all indications, they didn't appear poor.

Infact our room was one of the biggest in the hostel and had facilities only a few other rooms had.

She wasn't poor.
She didn't intend on selling them either.
So what in world was wrong with her??!!

It would be crazy to think she took 'em out to dump them somewhere after going through so much stress to clean them up.

Then one day, everything was gone.
When I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING.
Her included.

I came back from lectures really tired and all I wanted was to lie down and just sleep off till the next day.
However, fate had other plans.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the room was the bare wall facing our beds.

It was a Thursday evening and she NEVER took her piles of sacks out during the week.

Then I noticed the way her study table looked bare.

Taking a really good look at the room, I realized her bed had no sheet on it, neither did her pillow.

Rushing over to her wardrobe, I opened it to see it completely empty.
Her clothes and foodstuff gone.

I walked into the kitchen to find a similar situation.
Her camp gas and utensils were gone too.
It looked like I never had a roommate to begin with.

What was happening

Taking out my phone, I dialed her number. I kept being redirected to leave a voicemail after several attempts, so I eventually did.

I went out of the room and headed to the porter's desk at the entrance of the hostel.
I asked her if she had seen my roommate leave the building, and she said yes.

The porter informed me that her mother came to pick her up along with her things.

She had inquired as to why my roommate was moving out, but the only response she got from both mother and daughter were smiles before they exited the building.

I was relieved a little bit because atleast I knew she wasn't abducted or anything.
But atleast she could have informed me beforehand of her departure.

We were ROOMMATES for crying out loud.
Wasn't that supposed to make us friends

Well, technically speaking...we weren't exactly friends.
But how was that my fault
She always shut down whenever I tried to make an attempt at a conversation so I gave up on building friendship with her.

I trudged back to the room and forgot all about my beauty sleep.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
Seriously off.
I didn't have her parents' numbers and she never brought any friends to the hostel either.

I eventually fell asleep with a troubled mind.
I missed her.
I missed her junk.
I missed her quiet presence.
I didn't want to admit it intially, but I eventually did.

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One week later, I was approached by a lady on campus as I exited a lecture room.

"Excuse me miss, are you an occupant of room 27 in Sunshine Villa?"

I was taken aback for a second before regaining my composure.
"Who are you?"

She smiled warmly.
That smile...
It reminded me of a certain girl.

"I mean no harm, trust me. I was asked to deliver this to you by my sister", she said as she extended her hand that held an envelope.

I cautiously took it from her.

"Your sister?"

"Yeah. Your ex-roommate. She typed this a day before she passed away and e-mailed it to me with some instructions, which included printing it out and giving it to you a week after her departure from this world."

My heart skipped.
"I'm not following...what do you mean passed away She was fine up until the morning I left for lectures. And you're telling me she passed away on THAT same day Please if this is a prank just stop it."

She chuckled sadly.
"She said you wouldn't believe it easily. She was right. Anyway, it's not in my place to tell you what happened. That's what the letter is for. Please open the envelope and read it."

My head started to feel light.
"Can we atleast find somewhere to sit? If this is what I think it is, I don't think I would be able to stop myself from collapsing."

"Yeah of course. I found a tree we could sit under on my way here", she said as she started to walk away.

I followed her with heavy steps until we got there.
Dropping my books on the bench she indicated that we sit on, I sat down myself.

Taking out the printing paper, I started to read slowly.
Halfway into the letter, I dropped it.

My fingers just couldn't hold it as they trembled greatly.
I felt a pat on my back.
My eyes met her sister's eyes as she gave me reassuring smiles and kept on patting my back soothingly.

She picked up the letter and placed it on my thighs.

"You're almost done reading. You can't stop now", she said quietly.

I nodded grimly and read the rest of the contents from my thighs.

Eyes shimmering with unshed tears, I asked the lady, "Can you...can you take me to the hospital?"

She nodded, "Sure. She wanted you to come too. She asked me to show you where those 'junks' eventually ended up."

I made a failed attempt to smile.

How could these ladies keep smiling
My roommate and her mum knew she was going to leave the world that day, yet they smiled warmly at the porter

Oh Lord.

We got into her car and headed for town as my mind replayed the contents of the letter.

"Baby Girl,
I am starting this by apologizing.
I am sorry.
I am sorry for not telling you I'd be leaving.
I am sorry we didn't get the chance to talk and be friends for real.
I am sorry I always shut you out. Believe me when I say I WANTED to be your friend. But then why would a vibrant girl like you want to have any real thing to do with a stage 4 lung cancer patient like me?

You once asked me why I kept on gathering those things without using them for myself. You'll find out why at the hospital I am going to give up the ghost.

I am currently typing this letter as I watch you sleep with a peaceful smile. You have all the time in the world baby girl.
Do not waste any second of it. I always wanted to experience how life in the university was like.
Even if I knew I wouldn't graduate. My parents would never get to see me wear a convocation gown. Atleast they got to see me in matriculation gown hehe.
You are one of the best things that has happened to me in my life.
You might wonder how or why. Here's why.
Even though you always thought I needed psychiatric help with my trash obsession, you never said that to me in the face.
Other roommates would have abandoned the room or filed several reports to the school and hostel management.
But you didn't do any of those.

You endured having to wake up every morning to a wall that had clean junk piled up against it.
I know you think I'm not aware you even made more space for me to keep my sacks by leaving out more than 50% of your personal space for me under the pretense that you didn't have a lot of belongings, when in reality your wardrobe was barely staying closed due to the large amount of things you kept in there.

You don't know this, but you've helped me live the last of my days doing something I loved. Making an impact on someone. (You'll understand better when you get to the hospital).

Many people call me names like trash girl and other sinister descriptions.
But you never for once called me anything other than my real name.

You claim to dislike me and my attitude, but deep down you just want to understand why I am like this.

I already told you I am a stage 4 lung cancer patient and I cherished every second I breathed in air.
Do not beat yourself up for not taking closer looks at me to realize I was actually sick.

It's not your fault. I never spoke much because it was hard enough to breath without the aid of a tube.

I was always away on weekends to give those sacks to someone who needed them at the hospital and then have my appointments with the doctor afterwards.

I never let you do anything for me because I didn't want you to stumble upon any of my medications or documents as a patient.

I am in pains girl.
And I can't take it anymore.
I don't know how I survived this long, but I am grateful for it.

You once asked me about the things I loved and also requested that I asked you questions just so we could flow.
I'm sorry you're getting my answers after I've been buried six feet below the surface.

I love to write.
I love to binge watch movies on Netflix.
I have a cat at home named Shine.
I read a lot of novels so I tend to daydream a lot.
I wonder if you prefer Kdramas to Bollywood movies.
Do you like fair skinned guys or dark ones?
Guys with beards or guys that shave?
Yogurt or Ice-cream?
Barbie or Sophia?
Moana or Aladdin?
Would you rather wear heels on your wedding day or go with sneakers?
Where's your getaway place?
Mine's the beach at sunset.

There's so much I want to ask you.
So much I want to tell you. But this is how it was meant to be.

Thank you for being a part of my last days.
You have a really pretty smile. I always wanted to tell you that. Never let the world take your smile away.
Till we meet again,
Trash Girl."

"We're here", her sister's voice brought me out of my thoughts.
Wordlessly, I got alighted from the car and followed her inside.

We didn't spend much time at the reception as a doctor came out not long after we got in.
I got to know he was her husband.
After solemn pleasantries, they took me to a ward.

I found a girl of about 10 years of age lying on the bed with various tubes connected to her body.
She looked really frail.
I had a feeling she wouldn't last the week.

My heart broke even further as she opened her eyes and all I could see was dullness.

I looked up to my new friends and asked in a whisper, "Why did you bring me to this ward? I was supposed to see what my roommate did with those plastics and nylons but you brought me to a dying girl's ward. Why?"

"Look around. You'll find your answers", her sister said before leaving the room with her husband.

I wanted to follow them out, but my eyes caught sight of a cup.
My smoothie cup.
I could recognise it because of the logo on it.
It had been converted to a crayon and pencils cup.

"I asked my mum to leave that behind when she wanted to sell the others to the company that buys them from her", I heard a little voice say.

Turning around, I found out that the girl had pulled herself up to a sitting position.

I walked over to her bed slowly and sat down by the edge.

"So you're the one who uses all those plastics my friend gathered."

She nodded, "Yes. As you can tell, I am dying. I am a cancer patient just like your friend."

She pulled off her cap to reveal a clearly shaved head.

"How did you meet my friend?"

"Here at the hospital duh", she replied with a struggling smile.

I returned the smile.

Then she continued, her facial expression turning serious once more.

"I was at the brink of death when she found me here. My parents couldn't afford the maintenance bill to keep me on the life supporting machines. I was going die anyway, but they weren't ready to say goodbye. However they had no money left to keep me on those machines. Your friend heard about my case and decided to do something about it. She couldn't tell her parents as they also had to pay her own huge hospital bills even though her sister's husband works here. I had given up on living when she came in here one day and asked me to move my fingers if I wasn't ready to say goodbye to my family yet. I did. So she promised me I was going to live for a little while longer before leaving the ward. I was told she emptied her savings to help settle some of the bills without her parents' knowledge. My condition was stabilized, and I was back on the support of the machines and chemo treatment."

My lips started to shake as the girl's story seemed to be hitting a really sensitive nerve in me.

"She came back a few days later with two sacks of plastics and re-usable nylons along with someone from a company that was willing to buy these things at a high price. She handed over the sacks to my mum, and promised to bring plastics every weekend for her to sell to the company. The money gotten from those junks she found is what has sustained me till this very moment. She was dying as well, but according to her, she was ready to go while I wasn't ready. I'm sure you're aware she passed away last week."

I nodded with a clogged throat.

"She told me you would come exactly a week after her demise. I am happy I got to meet her only friend."

"S...sh..she said I was her only friend?"

"Yes. And that you really helped her with gathering those junks by giving her plenty space to keep them. Thank you very much."

I needed to get out of the room as fast as possible.
I would burst into tears at any minute and I didn't want the kid to see that.
So I stood up slowly as I held the girl's hands, "Now that there's no more plastic or nylon to sell, are you ready to say goodbye to your family?"

She smiled brightly, "Yes I am. You can't always hold on to this life forever. I realized we're all going to die someday. My time just came a little sooner than others. I am no longer afraid of dying. You shouldn't be too."

I sighed deeply, "You're a strong girl. And I really admire you for that. Thank you for explaining things to me and speaking for a long time. I certain wise girl once told me how hard it is to speak in this condition. Thank you for staying strong too. Before you go, do not forget to tell your parents how much you love them, and how grateful you are to them for sacrificing a lot just to keep you alive okay?"

She nodded, "Okay."

I let go of her hands and turned to leave.

"Miss?"

I turned back.

"Do have a great life okay? You have a really pretty smile. Do not let the world take that away alright?"

I chuckled before a hiccup followed.

"Okay and alright. Sleep tight sweetheart."

"I will."

"Goodnight", I whispered even though the sun was high up in the sky.

Closing the door with a small thud, I ran out of the building and kept running.
I ran till I couldn't run anymore so I slowed down.

I found a tree by the roadside and sat under it.

Then the water works started.
I cried for myself.
I cried for my roommate.
I cried for the little girl whose existence I wasn't aware of until thirty minutes ago.

Maybe, just maybe if I hadn't been so judgemental.
If I had made keener attempts to know my roommate more and be her friend for real, we would have made memories together.
She wouldn't have had to suffer and struggle all alone to turn trash bins upside down just so she could give a little girl the chance to spend more time with her family.

As I wiped my tears that afternoon, I realized I should never have judged her in the first place without knowing her story.
I shouldn't have judged her by the choices she made because I didn't know what demons she was fighting with.

I assumed she was just some girl obsessed with picking trash and cleaning them up when I knew little or nothing about her.
That was my mistake.

I stood up to dust myself before walking back the direction I came from with a mind determined to never again, make such a mistake.

"Goodbye baby girl",I whispered into the wind.

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(A/N)
Phew�
That was hard.

You may know someone's name, but you don't always know their story.
Try to connect with the people around you and get to know them better.
I learnt this the hard way too.

One love,
A.�

The Trash Girl
Written By: Abeedah Alabi[b][/b]

excellent writing