My roommate was an extreme eco-warrior. During a brutal 104°F heatwave, she locked the AC remote in her drawer. “We are supposed to sweat in the summer anyway. Just bear with it. Think of it as your contribution to saving Mother Earth.” That night, there wasn’t a single breeze coming through the window. Our dorm room felt exactly like an active pizza oven. My head was spinning from the suffocating heat, and sweat was dripping off me in sheets. When I tried to find the key to the drawer, she climbed onto a chair and used scissors to snip the AC’s power cord right in half. “Can’t you see Mother Nature is throwing up a fever? You selfish brat, all you care about is producing greenhouse gases.” In my past life, this was the exact night that kicked off a massive wave of cyberbullying against me at school. Everyone called me a spoiled, privileged princess who had zero empathy for the planet. They praised her as a hero with a noble mission. Ultimately, the extreme heat triggered my myocardial ischemia, sending me into cardiogenic shock. While I was dying, she cried on a TikTok Live, telling her followers that I only collapsed because I ate too much “processed industrial junk food” and had a weak body. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very first day of the semester. She was currently shoving the AC remote into her drawer. Her eyes were red as she looked at me and said, “Norah, being a little warm isn’t going to kill you.” Without a word, I grabbed my phone and my medical records, and walked straight to the housing office. “Mrs. Taylor, I need to apply for an emergency transfer to a single room.”
If she wanted to play a martyr, she could do it alone. I actually valued my life. Mrs. Taylor, the housing coordinator, looked up from her desk. Her freshman registration list was only half-finished. “Norah? You just checked in today and you’re already asking for a single room?” I placed my official medical documents on her desk. “Mrs. Taylor, I have a severe history of myocardial ischemia. Extreme heat can easily trigger a life-threatening cardiogenic shock for me.” “Right now, my roommate, Sienna Vance, has locked up the AC remote and is refusing to let us use any electricity, including personal fans.” The office went dead silent for a second. The student assistant sorting papers next to her stopped, wiped a thick bead of sweat from his forehead, and looked up in disbelief. “It’s literally 104 degrees outside today. She’s not letting you use the AC?” Mrs. Taylor frowned. “Norah, dorm conflicts should be resolved through communication first. The paperwork for a single room transfer takes time. It can’t be approved today.” Suddenly, a soft, pitiful, trembling voice came from the doorway. “Mrs. Taylor, this isn’t a conflict. This is a spiritual journey.” Sienna was standing by the door, clutching our dorm’s AC remote tightly to her chest. She was wearing a faded, oversized linen dress. Her forehead was covered in sweat, and her eyes were so red she looked like she had just been terribly bullied. “Mrs. Taylor, she wants to drain the very blood of our planet.” The assistant’s hand froze halfway through wiping his forehead. Mrs. Taylor looked at the plastic remote in Sienna’s hands. “Why do you have the AC remote?” Sienna immediately hugged the remote tighter, as if it were some sacred relic. “This machine is evil. Every breath of artificial cold air it spits out is a loan taken against the lifespan of our mountains and rivers.” “Mother Nature is crying in pain.” As she spoke, tears began to stream down her face. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. But I just want this world to stop being poisoned by modern industrial civilization.” By now, a few other freshmen had gathered in the hallway, whispering. “I mean, she’s a bit extreme, but her heart is in the right place, right?” someone muttered. Others started looking at me with judging eyes. That familiar, suffocating pressure tightened around my chest. It was exactly like my past life. The moment Sienna started crying and brought out her grand, dramatic speeches about saving the planet, everyone automatically assumed she was the victim. When I said my heart couldn’t take the heat, they called me dramatic. When I said she unplugged the fans, they said natural air was healthier anyway. When I complained that she turned our room into a sauna, they said she was just deeply compassionate. Even when I was finally lying in an ICU bed, hooked up to a ventilator and unable to speak, people on the school forum were still debating if I “lacked social responsibility.” This time, I didn’t bother explaining myself to the crowd. I kept my eyes on Mrs. Taylor. “Mrs. Taylor, I’m not here to judge her beliefs.” “I am simply requesting to not live with her.” Sienna’s sobbing paused for a fraction of a second. She looked up, her sweat and tears sticking her eyelashes together. “Norah, are you really that addicted to material comfort?” I replied flatly, “I have a heart condition.” Looking deeply hurt by my “ignorance,” she took a step back, her face full of disappointment. “But children in underdeveloped countries live without electricity every single day, and they survive. Why can’t you?” I flipped my medical report open and pointed directly at the doctor’s warning: Avoid extreme heat and high-stress situations. “Because I want to live.” The office fell completely silent. Mrs. Taylor stared at my medical records. Her brow furrowed, and her expression turned incredibly serious. “A single room request requires us to verify vacancy, and it has to go through both the department head and housing logistics.” Sienna immediately sniffled and took a step forward. “Mrs. Taylor, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this.” “I will do my best to guide Norah with love. I want to help her experience the joy of detoxing through natural sweat. Mother Nature will heal her heart.” I looked at her. “I don’t need Mother Nature to heal me.” “And I don’t need your guidance.”
The single room wasn’t approved on the spot. Mrs. Taylor said she had to call housing services to check for empty beds and submit a formal request to the dean. Hearing that the administration was getting involved, Sienna’s tears fell even faster. “Please don’t escalate this to the dean. They’ll just think I’m causing trouble again.” A student in the hallway chimed in, feeling sorry for her. “Mrs. Taylor, maybe they should just go back and talk it out?” “Yeah, the semester just started. Moving out on day one looks bad on their record.” “Exactly. Just bear with it for a couple of days, communication is key.” Mrs. Taylor looked at me. It wasn’t a look of favoritism—it was sheer helplessness. The university administration moved like a turtle, but peer pressure and moral high grounds traveled at the speed of light. Sienna knew exactly how to play this. Clutching the remote, she kept her voice just soft enough to sound fragile, but loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear. “Norah, I just want you to let go of your greedy consumerism.” “The glaciers are melting. Polar bears don’t even have ice to stand on anymore.” “If we can’t even handle a little heat, how much longer does Earth have left?” In my past life, this was the exact moment I backed down. I had thought to myself that since it was only the first day of college, I shouldn’t make enemies. So, I followed her back to the dorm. That night, she locked away the remote, unplugged the fans, and told us to “listen to the beautiful hum of the summer cicadas.” I was trapped in that suffocating room until 4:00 AM. My heart was pounding like crazy, and my breathing sounded like a broken bellows. When I crawled to grab my emergency heart medication, she snatched it away, crying that “pharmaceuticals are toxic chemicals” that would ruin my “natural bodily magnetic field.” I ended up on the floor, gasping for air, clawing at the bedpost as my vision went black, until I finally lost consciousness. In this life, I took out my phone, laid it on the desk, and hit record. “Mrs. Taylor, I’m happy to follow the official housing protocol.” “But until my single room is approved, I will not be sleeping in that dorm. If the university cannot provide a temporary bed, I want a written statement from your office.” “A statement confirming that I have submitted proof of a severe heart condition, and that my current assigned dorm has an active hazard where a student is forcibly cutting off electricity and refusing to allow cooling.” The office went dead silent again. Sienna stopped crying. The way she looked at me now was no longer pitiful—she looked at me like I was an irredeemable sinner. Mrs. Taylor remained silent for a few seconds before picking up her desk phone and dialing the resident advisor line. “Hi, is this the RA for Hall B, Room 503? Please send someone up to check on that room immediately.” “A student reported that their roommate is refusing to let them use the AC or fans.” She listened to the person on the other end, her expression hardening. “Yes, I am serious. One of the residents has a severe heart condition and cannot be exposed to extreme heat.” Sienna suddenly lunged toward me. “Why do you have to blow everything out of proportion?!” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was dripping with self-righteous anger. “We could have finished this beautiful spiritual journey together!” Outside the door, several students had already raised their phones, recording us. I took a giant step back. “Get away from me. The smell of your sweat is making me nauseous.” Sienna bit her lip, tears instantly spilling over. “This is the scent of nature! How could you insult me like that?” Crying hysterically, she turned and ran out of the office, heading back to the dorm. Mrs. Taylor closed her eyes, grabbed her keys from the desk, and sighed. “Let’s go. Room 503.” When we arrived at Room 503, the door was slightly ajar. From inside, we could hear our other roommate, Chloe, sobbing hysterically. Mrs. Taylor pushed the door open. A wave of suffocating, sweltering heat hit us in the face, carrying a strange, sour, rotting stench. Sienna was standing right beneath the AC outlet, holding a pair of heavy-duty kitchen scissors. On the floor lay the severed end of the AC’s thick white power cord. She held her head high, looking like a martyr standing before a firing squad. “Since a locked remote wasn’t enough to stop your greed, I have permanently freed us from this path of sin.” Chloe was sitting on the floor, crying, clutching a small, unplugged portable insulin fridge in her arms. Inside the plastic case, several expensive vials of imported insulin had already turned cloudy and ruined from the heat. Chloe was shaking with pure rage, pointing a finger at Sienna. “Are you insane?! You unplugged my mini-fridge! That was my entire semester’s supply of insulin!” Sienna looked at the ruined medicine on the floor, her face filled with mock pity. “Chloe, such expensive medicine is a luxury of capitalism.” “Elderly people in remote villages fight through illnesses using only their inner strength. Material goods do not bring true health. Why don’t you try letting your own body fight the disease naturally?” Chloe’s face drained of all color. “I have Type 1 Diabetes! I will literally die without insulin!” Sienna sighed, shaking her head. “That’s only because you are too dependent on modern medicine. Mother Nature will give us—” “Screw your nature!” Chloe scrambled up from the floor, grabbed a heavy textbook from her desk, and hurled it straight at Sienna’s head. Sienna shrieked, ducking quickly behind Mrs. Taylor. “Mrs. Taylor! She’s attacking me! The synthetic toxins in her body have driven her mad!”
The hall RA and the campus maintenance worker arrived shortly after. The moment they stepped into 503, the oppressive heat forced them back a step. It was 2:00 PM. The temperature outside was a scorching 104°F. The dorm windows were wide open, letting the hot, heavy summer air rush inside. Worse, the dorm floor was completely soaked with puddles of water. The extreme heat combined with the standing water turned the room into a giant steam room. It was so humid and sticky that it was hard to breathe. The RA’s face turned pale. “Why is there water all over the floor? Did a pipe burst?” Sienna peeked out from behind Mrs. Taylor, looking entirely innocent. “No, I brought that water from the campus lake.” “I read online that splashing water on the floor cools down a room through evaporation. It’s an ancient, eco-friendly cooling method. Plus, natural lake water carries spiritual energy.” The maintenance worker stared at the smelly, murky lake water on the floor, trying his best not to scream. “Kid, ancient climates were different, and this is a closed dorm building!” “Throwing stagnant water on the floor in this heat will only skyrocket the humidity! Anyone staying in here is going to get heatstroke!” Sienna pouted. “Don’t let modern science blind you. Traditional human wisdom is never wrong.” Some students watching in the hallway gasped, while others looked at her determined face and began whispering. “I mean, it’s dumb… but she really did it to try and cool them down.” “She’s just not very smart, but her heart is in the right place.” “Yeah, she had good intentions.” Just then, our fourth roommate, Ashley, walked in from the balcony. Her neck was already covered in a bright red heat rash, and she looked completely drained. She glanced at the ruined insulin on the floor, then at the sweating Sienna, and sighed. “Chloe, Norah, just drop it.” “Sienna just moved here from a small, rural town. Maybe she doesn’t know any better. She’s just trying to help us connect with nature. She was literally sweating bullets earlier writing eco-friendly quotes by hand.” “Let’s just take a step back. Think of it as doing a good deed. We can survive a few hot days.” Here it was again. Good intentions. In my past life, this simple phrase—good intentions—was the shield that excused all the deadly harm she caused. Sienna’s eyes immediately filled with tears of gratitude as she looked at Ashley. “Ashley, thank you for understanding me. I just want to save everyone from the trap of consumerism.” I stared coldly at Ashley. “She cut the AC cord, ruined Chloe’s life-saving medicine, and tried to lock me—a heart patient—in a 104-degree steam room.” “And you call that good intentions?” Ashley shrunk back under my gaze, her voice dropping. “Well… she’s already crying. Do you have to push her to the edge?” Before I could reply, Sienna took a sudden step forward, pulled a dirty cloth pouch from her pocket, and carefully opened it. Inside was a small pile of crumpled, dirty bills and coins. “Chloe, Norah, I know you both come from privilege.” “This is $30 I made from recycling soda cans. I’m paying you back. Go buy some organic popsicles to cool down, just please stop hating me.” She held out the crumpled money with both hands, tears streaming down her face. With her faded dress and desperate posture, it looked exactly like I was some wealthy bully tormenting her. The whispers in the hallway shifted instantly. “Oh my god, she’s offering her recycling money. Is she serious?” “It’s just a little heat. College girls these days are so fragile.” “They need to learn to forgive.” Chloe stared at the thirty dollars, her body shaking with rage. Tears welled up in her eyes, but the heavy judgment from the crowd kept her from speaking a single word. Mrs. Taylor raised her voice, telling the crowd to disperse, before turning a cold look on Sienna. “Sienna Vance, destroying university property and ruining another student’s expensive medication cannot be resolved with thirty dollars. Come to my office. Now.” Sienna clutched the crumpled money to her chest like a martyr carrying her cross, looking back at me with a mix of pity and creepy fanaticism as she followed Mrs. Taylor out.
As expected, by that evening, the incident exploded on the university’s anonymous forum, Fizz. A post titled “Pure-hearted girl tries to save energy for the planet, gets bullied by wealthy roommates” was pinned right at the top. The post featured three photos. The first was Sienna, drenched in sweat, writing environmental quotes under a dim desk lamp. The second was a candid shot of her crying in the hallway, holding her crumpled thirty dollars. The third was of me, standing by with my arms crossed, looking cold and aloof—the perfect image of an arrogant, evil roommate. The caption was highly manipulative: “What is wrong with this world? Someone tries to protect the Earth through natural living, only to be forced to her knees to pay money by her spoiled roommates who can’t live without AC. Do poor people with beliefs not deserve to go to college?” The comment section was a toxic wasteland. “The girl with her arms crossed looks like a total bitch.” “It’s just AC. I grew up without it and I’m fine. Kids today are brainwashed by capitalism.” “I feel so bad for the eco-girl. Seeing her hold that money made me tear up.” “Expose the spoiled roommates! Avoid them at all costs!” When Ashley showed me her phone, her expression was incredibly awkward. “Norah, look… things are getting out of hand. Why don’t you and Chloe just forgive her? Post a public statement on Fizz, otherwise how are we going to face people in class?” Looking at the cropped, out-of-context photo, my chest tightened, and my heart rate began to spike erratically. In my past life, I was cyberbullied exactly like this. I had posted my medical reports, the cut AC cord, and Chloe’s ruined insulin. But nobody cared. They only wanted to remember Sienna’s sweating, innocent-looking face. They only wanted to believe in their perfect, impoverished saint. I took a deep breath and pushed the phone away. “She is the one lying online. Why should I be the one to apologize and forgive her?” Mrs. Taylor had set up a temporary bed for me in the RA’s first-floor duty office. “Maintenance will fix the AC cord tomorrow. You sleep here tonight. There’s a fan. Tomorrow morning, I’ll push the dean for your single room.” The office only had an old ceiling fan that squeaked loudly, blowing warm air around, but it was a million times better than the artificial lake sauna upstairs. At 2:00 AM, just as I was drifting off, a pungent, artificial floral scent hit my nose. It smelled like the cheapest, lowest-grade incense sticks from a dollar store, mixed with heavy, suffocating smoke. I began to cough violently. My heart rate instantly surged to 120 beats per minute, and my lungs screamed for oxygen. I struggled to open my eyes. Through the dim light from the hallway, I saw Sienna standing right by my bed. She was holding a metal tray with seven or eight cheap incense sticks burning at once, releasing thick clouds of blackish smoke. She was actively waving the smoke directly into my face. “What… what are you doing?!” I gasped, clutching my chest as I scrambled back. Sienna looked down at me with a terrifyingly gentle smile. “Norah, Ashley told me your heart was acting up. Your heart is beating fast because your mind is full of modern anxiety and greed.” “This is meditation incense. Breathe it in. This raw, natural smoke will quiet your mind, and your heart condition will heal itself.” The thick smoke rapidly filled the tiny, unventilated room. The 104-degree heat, combined with the toxic chemical fragrance and severe lack of oxygen, felt like a physical hand squeezing my heart. “Get… get out…” I reached out, trying to knock the tray from her hands. Sienna grabbed my wrist with shocking strength. Her eyes were wide and manic. “Norah, don’t reject nature’s gift! Breathe deep! Purge the industrial toxins from your body!” My vision began to blur, and a tearing pain ripped through my chest. A second before I completely lost consciousness, my fingers brushed against my phone on the pillow. With my very last bit of strength, I pressed the emergency SOS button. As the metal tray clattered loudly to the floor, I collapsed onto the bed. The last thing I heard was Sienna’s horrified, self-righteous shriek. “Norah! Why would you rather faint than accept Mother Nature’s blessing?!”
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