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My mattress lost three pounds in two weeks, and I couldn't figure out where the foam was going. The first time I noticed that there was a chunk missing from the corner of my mattress, I figured we had mice. I took a picture of it on my phone and went to show my roommate Lindsay in the kitchen. Dude, look at this, I said. Something is eating my bed. She squinted at the screen for half a second, gross, she said, and went right back to scrolling. That's it, I asked. That's all you have to say. She shrugged without looking out. I don't know what you want me to do about it. I bought traps that same day and set them all around my room, but a week later I still hadn't caught anything. The damage kept getting worse though, with new chunks disappearing from different corners every single night. I woke up to find a crater the size of my fist near my pillow. Lindsay, get in here, I yelled. She appeared in my doorway holding a bowl of cereal. She glanced at the mattress, then back at me, chewing slowly. Okay, and, she said with her mouth all, and, I repeated, Lindsay, look at the size of that hole. She shrugged and swallowed. Maybe you're thrashing around in your sleep or something. That didn't even make sense, but she was already walking away. I noticed she hadn't really looked at the damage at all, and something about that made me feel like I was losing my grip on reality. I moved to the couch that night. The next morning I got on my hands and knees with my phone flashlight, and looked at every inch of that mattress. The bite marks weren't random or messy like an animal would leave behind after tearing into something. They were clean, like someone was working their way around the edges carefully. I also found tiny chunks of foam scattered in the hallway leading to the bathroom. Lindsay, I called out. Did you see these foam pieces in the hallway? She poked her head out of her room with wide eyes. Nope, she said way too quickly. Didn't see anything. That's so weird. I walked to the bathroom and checked the trash can with shaking hands, because I already sensed something horrible. There was a piece of mattress foam sitting right on top of the garbage, wet and compressed like it had been chewed. I marched back to Lindsay's room and stood in her doorway. Have you seen anything weird happening around here? I asked. Watching her face carefully. Maybe we have rats. She said, "Rats can get pretty big. It's not a problem." When I woke up last night, I woke up in the morning. I woke up in the morning. I had a soft rustling sound coming from my bedroom. I crept down the hallway with my phone flashlight ready, holding my breath with every single step. The rustling got louder as I approached, and I could hear what sounded like something chewing something tough and rubbery. I pushed the door open and aimed my flashlight at the bed. Then my entire brain shut down. Lindsay was kneeling on my mattress with her face pressed into the corner. And a chunk of foam was hanging from her mouth. She looked up at me with this eerily calm expression. Too twice. And swallowed like she was finishing a bite of state. Hoping to finish it before you noticed, she said casually. Lindsay, what the hell? I whispered, still frozen in the doorway. She wiped foam crumbs from her lips until it hit her head at me. I don't understand why you're looking at me like that, she said. And her voice started getting sharper. I obviously couldn't eat my own mattress because I need mine to sleep on. She gestured at my destroyed bed like this should have been obvious to any reasonable person. That doesn't make any sense. I said, "My voice cracking." Lindsay actually rolled her eyes at me like I was being dramatic. You have a whole mattress and you're being so selfish about it. She snapped. Do you know how hungry I've been waiting for you to fall asleep every night? She said the word hungry like I had been starving her on purpose. You could have just asked. I said immediately realizing how insane that sounded coming out of my mouth. I was fully moved out by the end of the week