That changed after I spent a few nights in my friend’s old apartment. At first, the small bump on my arm didn’t worry me. I assumed it was a mosquito bite or maybe irritation from the bedding.
But soon, a pattern began to emerge. The bumps kept coming, and they no longer felt random. What started as a minor annoyance slowly became something that felt like a warning.
By the second night, itchy bumps had spread across my skin. Each one seemed to signal that something was wrong, even though I didn’t yet understand the cause.
They appeared in familiar places—where my body pressed most firmly against the mattress. My shoulders, lower back, and the tops of my legs. Areas in constant contact while I slept.
The itching was mild but persistent, easy to ignore at first, yet impossible to forget. It felt like a quiet alarm I kept silencing instead of responding to. I tried to explain it away.
Maybe it was detergent. Maybe food. Maybe stress. But nothing in my routine had changed. My soap, shampoo, meals, and habits were exactly the same as at home.
The only difference was the apartment itself, and once I realized that, the discomfort felt heavier.