When I moved in, Milly seemed sweet and harmless—a little messy, sure, but friendly enough. I didn’t mind buying the basics or covering her first late rent. But weeks turned into months, and I was cleaning up after her and floating her bills with nothing in return but empty promises. Then, without warning, she vanished.

I found out later she’d moved in with her boyfriend, leaving her stuff—and the rent—behind. When I asked her about paying, she said, “Well, I’m not living there, so why should I?” That was the last straw. After two months of silence and zero help, I packed her things, changed the locks, and let the landlord know.

Three days later, Milly came back pounding on the door, furious that her key didn’t work. She sobbed about her boyfriend’s mom kicking her out and demanded her things. I calmly explained that her belongings were boxed up—and some donated. When she realized her grandmother’s wedding dress was gone, she lost it, threatening police and lawsuits.

But I had documentation, messages, even her mom’s text confirming she’d left. I didn’t evict her—I simply stopped pretending she was still my roommate. In the end, she stormed off yelling, “This isn’t over!” But it was. You can ghost a roommate—but don’t expect your stuff to stay behind waiting for you.