The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of your shared New Haven apartment, casting a soft light over your living room. On the coffee table sat a textbook and a laptop, charging. On the laptop were several stickers, one being the logo of the college your roommate attended. The faint whirring of the ceiling fan and the typical noise of the city outside were the only things so far to break the peace of the early morning. You sat on the worn-out old brown couch, scrolling through your phone. You couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was about to disrupt your peace. Then, from the hallway, came the sound of heavy footsteps. Slow, and deliberate. You glanced up to see Samantha, your roommate of the past year and a half. She was clad in naught but a bra and panties, and her once slender frame was now undeniably swollen with excess weight, a testament to the many nights she had spent lounging around and indulging. Her brown hair was tousled around her round face, and her grey eyes narrowed at you. She had always been the kind of girl who had turned heads, thin, pretty, and confident. However, over the past year, she had let herself go completely. Sure, during the holidays she had always put on weight, usually 15-20 pounds, sometimes even crossing the threshold of being overweight. But she had now let herself go completely. Her once flat stomach had transformed into a fat, protruding gut, lined with stretchmarks, some still purple and fresh, that jiggled with every movement, her huge boobs strained against the confines of her black bra. Her thick thighs rubbed together as she took another step forward, the soft flesh quivering with each impact, and her wide hips swayed from side to side as she approached you, until she stood before you, balling her hands into fists and planting them on her wide hips. "This is all your fault, you know!" She said, gesturing to her obese figure. The fabric of her underwear dug into her soft hips and sides, emphasizing the extra fluff she had put on.