I accidentally befriended the ghost of the student who burned down College Hall in 1914. She was really chill– emotionally. Physically, she radiated with the warmth of a freshly charred building. Like a space heater with emotional damage. 

Her name was Dorothy. We met on steps late one night while I was outside for a mental health break. She glowed faintly, like the end of a cigarette. Her vintage 1900’s clothing had the same musk as Buffalo Exchange. Her lack of shoes was eccentric. She spoke about dying with the passion of a Broadway star. In my mind, she was just method acting for Upstage. I only realized she was an actual, dead, not alive ghost when wisps of smoke started to blow through her. She was also quite concerned about my (raw) tuna crispy rice (she died of dysentery. Yes. Even after a fire that burned down a building.) 

We chatted. She was stressed about her eternal damnation to this plane of existence; I was stressed about midterms and the fact that my advisor still hasn’t responded to my last three emails. She still thought I had it worse. I agreed. We spoke about life, or what she remembers from it, about my hinge match gh*sting me (btw. Super offensive. Do not say that in her presence), and Liza Minelli. Even after approximately 112 years of conversations about lesbianism, she still doesn’t really get it. (“Why would someone make ‘scissors’ a verb?”) But she listened intently, mostly because she didn’t have a choice. Or she was realizing something. TBD. 

After sitting in second-hand smoke for an hour, she got a bit loopy. The edges of her body(?) began to ripple, and she just seemed super out of it. I soon learned ghosts can get high, like some of the seniors in Claflin! Luckily, Dorothy can close her window (despite not having hands, a room, or a window.) 

Also, she’s super into Good Luck Charlie. Apparently, someone spent 18 hours binging during finals week, and she remembers all of it. She described every episode with a haunted level of accuracy. Said it helped her process her emotions. (She totally thought Teddy was hot.)

We then had crazy gay sex in the astral plane.  

Shoutout to Dorothy, if you see her, tell her I say hi! Offer her a hit of ur cart too. God knows she needs it.