Have you seen him? I have no idea where he is. It’s four o’clock already and he’s got classes until one-thirty, and the kid comes back to the room religiously afterward. Um, is that not a red flag that something is horribly wrong?

How am I even supposed to read my biology book and watch Family Guy at the same time without wondering where the kid is? Seriously! Okay, maybe he’s hanging out with that girl who he’s been eating with lately. I have no clue what else he would be doing. I’m sure he’s fine, though.

Alright, it’s six o’clock now and he’s still not back. I don’t think this is normal anymore. It’s certainly abnormal, his not coming back to the room. It’s blatantly abnormal. Can any college kid be this busy, to not have time to come back to the room? Of course not. What, does he have some club meeting? What, is there a speaker on campus that is of particular interest to perhaps his political agenda or maybe his fervor for social justice? Did his prof make him watch a movie for class? I’ll tell you what, the kid comes back to his room after chem class, throws his backpack on the floor and checks Facebook. End of story. That’s what he does. That’s what we all do. So where is he?

I texted him. Hasn’t responded. Although that doesn’t say much, since it takes the kid like half a day to answer when I ask if I can have some of his Cheesy Enchilada Doritos. But still. This is absurd. There is no explanation for this behavior.

Yes, he’s taking four classes, all 200 level or something like that, and he fools around with a sport, I think—but that’s an hour a day, tops. Maybe one or two student orgs. Is that any excuse? And homework? HA! Homework never made anyone too busy. Do that shit while you watch something on Hulu. Oh, and cross out work—there’s not a college kid out there who works while in school. That’s just stupid.

It’s eight o’clock and my roommate is dead. I mean it, there’s no other way. He’s dead. I’ve texted him numerous times, stuff like, “Hey man, how’s it going?” and “Hey you in the Caf? Wanna grab me some Teddy Grahams?” and “One of the kids down the hall clogged the toilet! You gotta come back and see this!” but nothing. Nada. College isn’t about being busy, it’s about coming back to your dorm and watching Family Guy with your roommate.

Where is he?! He’s either dead or in jail. Maybe he’s dead AND in jail. Or in the hospital. Maybe he’s all three. Did he go swimming in Lund? Can he even swim? Are the lifeguards properly equipped to save a drowning person?

He’s a scrawny little kid, maybe they didn’t see him. Is he stuck on an elevator somewhere? Did he slip on some sod? No, he’s having seizures in the library bathrooms and the lights went out. Those damned automated lights!

Maybe there’s a family emergency. Maybe something happened to his grandpa. My roomie’s grandpa is dying!

This has gone on for too long. I’m calling the cops. Or should I just go straight to the FBI? He’s a missing person.

There’s got to be some kind of missing person hotline I can call. They’ll plaster his face up on billboards and on the back of milk cartons in the twinkling of an eye. “MISSING: MY ROOMMATE.” Someone will find him then.

It’s the only way. But what if he’s adopted a new persona? What if he’s shaved his head? What if he has dissociative fugue and he forgets that he’s my roommate?

Call the missing person hotline, we have a missing adult! Okay, he’s not really an adult, he’s just a young adult. We have a missing young adult! My roommate is wandering around in a cornfield without any clue as to who he is or what he does! College kids never disappear from their rooms for this long.

Where is my roommate?!