My boyfriend and I agreed to meet during National Day, but on the day itself I discovered someone had refunded my train ticket. I only found out why when I got back to the dorm. My roommate had used my phone to cancel the ticket so another student could get home to care for a sick family member. I confronted her, but she brazenly said, “She needs to go home because someone in her family is sick. Your boyfriend isn’t dying, is he? You can see him another time.” As it turned out, her words became a curse. When I didn’t show up, my boyfriend went back to the office to work overtime. A fire broke out in the building, and he burned to death at his desk. I was devastated. Just as I was finally starting to move on, my roommate said she wanted to take me out to clear my head, but instead brought me to the countryside to meet a prospective match. A local thug had posted online looking for a partner, and my roommate thought I’d be a good fit, so she wanted me to marry him. I thought it was absurd and tried to leave, but the thug locked me in a basement. I was eventually rescued, but the trauma left a permanent scar. I died in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my roommate used my phone to cancel my ticket.
