I’m a first year student dorming at the University Of Hawaii. I fell asleep one night, and then at three or four in the morning I woke up suddenly because the room was freezing cold and I had to pee really bad. After coming out of the bathroom, I noticed that I couldn’t hear any of the noise from outside. No passing cars from the freeway, no sound of the breeze rustling the branches outside, no late night, early morning conversations from the rooms on either side of mine. It was just a very eerie silence. Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stood up because I could feel that I wasn’t alone in my dorm room. That’s when I heard the sobbing and saw some kid sitting in my chair with his face buried in his hands.
“What the hell are you doing in my room?” I was a lot more pissed off now than scared.
He looked up at me I could see that he was very distraught.
“I lost my scholarship,” he cried.
“What?” I asked.
He reached beneath his chair and removed an open gallon of Clorox and tanked it down. Even before I could scream at him to stop, he dropped the gallon on the floor and raced to the window where he tore off the screen and hurled himself outside, it was ten floors down. I looked out the window, expecting to see this kids body broken and twisted on the pavement below, but there was nothing there. That’s when I heard it from behind me again, the sobbing.
“I lost my scholarship,”
…
I don’t recall if I screamed or cried before I grabbed my keys and wallet and took off, but I do remember running down ten flights of stairs. After that, I was on the freeway heading home. I moved back home the next day and forced my parents to go back to my dorm room and get the rest of my stuff. The drive from ‘Ewa everyday is long and traffic is a bitch, but it’s better than living in a haunted dorm room. And if you’re wondering, then let me save you the trouble. I don’t care about who the ghost of that kid was and I’m not going to lift a finger to find out.
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