I Tried to Save Her, She Fed Me Leeches

Just because the campus queen from the dorm next door posted photos online of using cosmetic leeches for “scientific” fat reduction, she went viral overnight and landed a high-paying sponsorship.

In my previous life, my roommate wanted to copy her and become an online influencer by live-streaming herself using leeches for weight loss in our dorm, but I stopped her.

I boiled the squirming leeches to death and dumped them down the drain.

“Linda Carter, this stuff isn’t hygienic—it could spread disease.”

She agreed with her mouth, but then went online and posted that I was jealous of her, that I couldn’t stand to see her become more beautiful and popular, and that I was deliberately suppressing her.

After all, once this kind of bizarre livestream blew up, the traffic and donations could be very lucrative.

Watching the campus queen next door get more and more popular, my roommate smashed her phone in anger.

And then she blamed everything on me.

One night, while I was asleep, my roommate tied me up.

“Sarah Miller, do you realize that everything I have today is thanks to you?”

“If you hadn’t thrown away my leeches and stopped me from streaming, I’d be the one with that high-paying sponsorship right now.”

“It’s you—you cut off my path to fortune, you destroyed my dream of stardom. Why don’t you just die?”

As soon as the words fell, she dumped a whole jar of freshly bought leeches onto my face.

Before I died, I saw her open her phone and start livestreaming, pressing another jar of leeches onto her own face, laughing hysterically into the camera.

My nose and mouth were clogged by the slippery creatures—I couldn’t even cry for help.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day when my roommate held up that jar of leeches, asking me to discuss the details of her livestream with her.

Linda set a glass jar on my desk.

Inside, a dozen leeches squirmed in the water, making my scalp crawl.

“Sarah, look what I bought.”

“Melissa Scott next door went viral with this, didn’t she? If she can do it, so can I.”

Melissa, the campus queen at our college, had exploded in popularity just two days ago with a video of “leech liposuction,” gaining three hundred thousand followers overnight.

In the video, she went to a high-end cosmetic clinic, where a professional attached several clean medical leeches to her arm.

The whole process was filmed beautifully and intriguingly, and the comments section was full of admiration for how far she was willing to go for beauty.

And Linda clearly wanted to replicate that path to fame—only she intended to go even more extreme.

“Cosmetic clinics are too expensive, and they’re not exciting enough. I’ll just do it in our dorm and let the leeches suck on me myself. It’ll be way more entertaining.”

Her eyes gleamed with hunger for traffic as she began drafting titles for her livestream.

“Challenge the Internet: raw leech blood-sucking weight loss, live from the dorm.”

In my past life, her crazed look had scared me into destroying her leeches by force.

As a result, she hated me to the bone.

This time, I looked at her and at the jar of leeches that made me sick to my stomach.

“Great idea, Linda.”

She stared at me blankly. “Sarah, you agree?”

“Of course.”

I stood up, walked to her side, and leaned closer to the glass jar with feigned curiosity.

“When have I ever not supported what you wanted to do? But livestreaming is a big deal—you’d better prepare properly.”

My gaze shifted from the jar to her face.

“I knew it, Sarah, you’re the best.”

She hugged me excitedly. “Don’t worry. When I blow up and become a famous influencer, I’ll never forget you.”

I gently patted her back and said, “Sure.”

Of course, I knew she wouldn’t forget me.

Linda quickly threw herself into her influencer dream.

She stood in front of the mirror, practicing her opening lines for the livestream over and over, and rehearsed which angles made her look the best.