As I write this message from a hostel in Cambodia, my fate appears all but certain. If I don’t make it out alive, please know that I love you with all my heart.
I’ve been staring up at the bulging slats above me for nearly two hours. I swear they’re getting closer to my nose with each passing minute. I dare not move a muscle, as even the slightest change to the equilibrium could send him crashing down upon me.
His name is Neil. He weighs about 160 kg. And if he so much as sneezes, I’m fucked.
From the moment Neil stomped into my dorm room, I sensed that something dreadful was afoot. There was only one free bed – the one directly above me – and before I knew it he was laying his XXXL sleeping bag out on the mattress.
I asked Neil if he wanted to swap places with me. I even made up a story about how I prefer the top bunk because it reminds me of visiting my grandparents’ house as a child. But Neil didn’t want me to go to any trouble and (very slowly) hauled himself up the ladder.
OH GOD! He just rolled onto his side. My life flashed before my eyes …
I should never have let myself get into this position. But once Neil had started his ascent, there was no way I could escape. So I lay perfectly still, hoping to duck out once he fell asleep.
Alas, the first time I tried to poke my head out, Neil’s unconscious right arm swung down and whacked me on the face, leaving a coating of sweat that I can still taste now. My second attempt caused two slats to explode. So here I lie, still as a corpse, hoping that some miracle of gravity keeps Neil afloat until a construction team can be called in to remove him tomorrow morning.
Oh no. Fuck. He’s STRETCHING!!! The bed is creaking like a banshee. Three more slats have snapped. This is it. I LOVE YOU MUM!