Date: Mon, 10 May 1999 22:38:06 -0700 (PDT)
To: stories@ghosts.org
yourname Jill Traynor
email thilia@hotmail.com
Well, it’s me again. I wrote the Spirit Lady story earlier. (An odd name to give it. There were a few spirit ladies in the stories.) Anyway, shortly after writing in to Obiwan’s site, I had another interesting brush with the paranormal. It was the last day of classes before Christmas Break. I had said goodbye to my friends who were leaving. My friend (now ex) Katy and I decided to hang out with her friend Justin and some of his friends. Justin is a house DJ.
Anyway, after a while, Katy and I went on to a party, she not allowing me to go to the party I wished to go to: the last theatre party of the year. It was a Rugger party and we had a fabulous debauched time. After a while, Justin and his friends arrived, saying they had broken into Stout Hall, our dorm, but hadn’t seen the picture of Julia Stout that hangs in Bagwell’s Lounge. Well, Katy and I thought this meant the painting had been stolen so we raced back to Stout only to see the picture happily hanging where it always had.
Now the last time Juila’s picture had been moved, we had problems ranging from no hot water to no electricity to a young man being bitten by a poisonous snake and the front desk being robbed. We keep her picture where she likes it. Then Justin’s friend Chris informed us that this was not the building he had broken into. The building he had broken into was deserted. He pointed to the building across Stout’s lawn: Murray. Now Murray is deserted aside from the MLRC (math learning resource center) in the basement. Katy and I were relieved and asked to see the inside of Murray.
It was right out of an old horror movie.
The main lounge was piled with old furniture and books, some books dating back to the fifties. Then we went into the stairwell. And we were overcome with flying rats: pigeons. The birds were everywhere in the building’s three upper floors. Debris including old light fixtures, wooden planking, and old doors and garbage cans littered the stairwell and hallways. The layout was exactly like Stout. The rooms even looked the same, minus the birdie excrement from the flying rats. The flying rats were a little unnerving. Not only did I have no desire to act as a car left under a tree on a warm summers day, but I was very aware of how friendly those birds could be. The electricity was working for the MLRC but we didn’t want to turn it on anywhere else in the building. (Remember, technically, we were breaking and entering.) The only things lighting the upstairs hallways of Murray were the red exit signs. You could see them clear down the hallway. Until we reached the fourth floor.
On four, the top floor, we couldn’t see the light. We couldn’t even see the street lights coming in from the windows in the abandoned rooms. All we could see was this material unrelenting darkness. Cave darkness, but Katy and I could feel the darkness around us. Like silk touching our skin. We walked towards where we thought the exit sign would be. Not until we were three feet from the sign did we get a clear image of the sign. There were ghosts everywhere. Chris didn’t see them. The only sounds were the sound of birds flying around the rooms that surrounded us. Though I heard the whispering of female voices. Then Katy caught sight of the head of a woman, larger than life, floating towards us. I saw nothing, being more auditory, but she said that it was a woman in her thirties. And she didn’t want us there. I heard the whispering getting louder and the dark grew even darker. We quickly left, dragging Chris after us who wanted to stay a little longer. The door we had to exit from was blocked, though no one else saw it but me. An enormous shadow covered the doorway, tangible enough to be felt.
I’ve wanted to go back to Murray and take some pictures at night. But so far I haven’t had the opportunity. God/dess only knows what I’d find when I developed the roll.