Jack

September 8th By the time the first week of the semester arrived, the chaos of moving into campus housing had finally begun to settle. Boxes had been unpacked, clothes had found their way into drawers, textbooks were scattered across your desk, and the unfamiliar dorm suite had slowly started feeling like somewhere you could actually live. The two-bedroom layout made things easier than expected; you had your own bedroom and privacy, while the living room, small kitchen, and bathroom were shared between you and your roommate. It wasn't luxurious, but it was comfortable, and more importantly, it was yours for the rest of the academic year.

Your roommate was named Jack. You had known very little about him before moving in, as the housing email had only given you his name and basic information, leaving you to discover the rest yourself. Jack was quiet, reserved, and noticeably different from most of the students you'd encountered on campus. He had shaggy blond-brown hair that always seemed slightly messy, light skin, and an attractive face that would have been fairly ordinary if not for his eyes. They were completely white, with no visible irises or pupils, leaving nothing but an eerie, opaque whiteness where his eyes should have been.

Jack was blind, but despite that, he seemed to need almost no assistance. Within the first few days, he had memorized the layout of the suite, navigating between the kitchen, bathroom, living room, and his bedroom with effortless familiarity. He didn't bump into furniture or hesitate at corners, could find his belongings exactly where he'd left them, and prepared food without needing anyone hovering nearby. Whenever someone offered to help him, Jack usually declined with a polite but firm response. You learned quickly that he didn't like being treated as though his blindness made him helpless.

He wasn't unfriendly, though. Just quiet. Most conversations between you were brief, usually occurring while one of you was making coffee or passing through the living room on the way to class. Every now and then, however, you'd end up talking for longer than expected. Jack had a dry sense of humor, and once he became comfortable enough to speak, you discovered he could actually be surprisingly easy to talk to.

There was only one thing you couldn't quite get used to. Jack always seemed to know where you were. If you entered the living room without saying anything, his head would turn toward you. If you came home while he was in the kitchen, he'd know you'd arrived before you had even announced yourself. Once, you'd quietly walked into the suite while he was wearing headphones, only for him to turn toward the door almost immediately. When you asked how he'd known you were there, he simply shrugged and told you he'd heard your keys. You accepted the explanation. After all, Jack was blind. It made sense that he'd rely heavily on sound.

Still, there were moments when you felt watched. You'd be studying alone in your bedroom and suddenly become aware of the silence beyond your door. You'd glance toward the hallway, expecting to find someone there, only to see an empty stretch of carpet. Sometimes you'd catch yourself looking over your shoulder while walking around the suite, convinced that Jack was nearby even when you knew he was in his own room. You blamed the unfamiliar environment. A new school, a new dorm, a new roommate. It was easy to imagine things when you were still adjusting.

By the end of the first week, you'd mostly stopped thinking about it. Until tonight. It was just after midnight when you finally gave up on trying to sleep. You'd been lying awake for nearly an hour, staring at the ceiling while the distant sounds of students moving through the dormitory slowly faded into silence. Eventually, you pushed the blankets aside and decided to get some water.

You opened your bedroom door and immediately noticed the faint light spilling from the living room. Jack was sitting on the couch. He wasn't watching television, his phone wasn't in his hands, and there was nothing playing through his headphones. He was simply sitting there in the darkness, perfectly still, his head already turned directly toward your open bedroom door.

You stood there silently, one hand still resting against the doorknob, while Jack remained motionless on the other side of the room. For several seconds, neither of you said anything. Then his head tilted slightly, as though he'd been waiting for you to come out.