I Bet You Thought I Stopped Writing, Didn't You?

Kosin's campus can be a downright terrifying place at night. It's poorly lit, slightly rundown, there's usually someone knocking around in it, and almost every door creaks loud enough to wake the dead. We often joke that our building is haunted, and it's not that difficult to see why. Imagine, if you will, that it's the middle of a dark and moonless night, and you've just finished up a long night of grading. While it may be warm and bright in your third floor office, the rest of the building is a different story, with the night watchman having long ago turned out the lights. You turn your office lights off and step out into the dark stillness of the hallway; you look to your left and see only a closed door, but to the right the hallway stretches on, the neon green glow of the exit sign goes only so far, the only sign of its end is a handful of tiny green lights on the water cooler. You pray that you don't hear footsteps in the darkness or see those tiny lights blocked out by a slow moving silhouette as you fumble with your keys in a hurried attempt to lock your door. But it doesn't end there.

You step out into the stairwell, the massive steel doors creaking behind you, and start to make your way down the stairs in not quite pitch darkness. Now not only do you have to worry about ghosts, murderers, centipedes, what have you, waiting for you in the corners of the landing, you also have to worry about missing a step on the way down and twisting your ankle, or worse. These stairs have an odd shape to them, and you can't really see where you're going, and there's not a whole lot of light to guide you. Dangerous stuff, friends. Now you're almost home free and out of the building, except for looking down the long black halls as you pass them, the silence broken only by errant creakings and cries from people doing who knows what after hours in the empty classrooms. At that point, it's just a short walk across the lobby and out into the (usually) foggy night for a short walk down the hill to your apartment.

Okay, so maybe it's not like walking through a haunted house every night on your way home, but still, it's creepy as hell and that's not even taking a proper walk through the building, that's just sticking to the stairways. I'm not too proud to admit that I would probably be a little afraid to play hide-and-go-seek in here, but that's at least half due to centipedes. And that doesn't include the half-dozen other times where I've seen something dark in the hallway out of the corner of my eye and sieze up in a brief moment of terror before I realize its nothing.

Now Listening To:
"She Bangs The Drums"
Stone Roses