By Sabrina Henderson
Social Media Editor
Oct. 16 2018
It was my very first full day here at Dominican. It was the Saturday after freshman move-in day 2015.
I was by myself in a dorm bathroom at one in the afternoon. Nothing too chilling, right? As I was washing my hands, I noticed a giggling from the other side of the bathroom, where the showers were. It was a bit high-pitched, like a little girl’s voice. At first I thought it may have been coming from the hallway, but the giggles were too clear to be muffled through walls. Being that foolish girl in horror movies that always seems to run towards the killer, rather than running out of the house, I gained up the courage to bravely and cautiously ask, “Hello?” There was silence. “….hi…” I hear faintly from the same direction the giggles were coming from. The word, soft and quiet, like a
child’s voice, but as clear as day. That’s when I ran out of the bathroom, probably at a 60 mph speed. Luckily, my dorm was right next to my room. I sprinted in, tried closing and locking the door as fast as I can. I noticed my roommate and our friend from across the hall were staring at me, as if I just heard a ghost! When I told them what had happened they gave me concerned faces, understandably, since they had just met me the day before.
A week later, I was researching scary stories that have taken place Dominican, and I came across an article from years back, it was about the little girl in the dorms’ bathroom. At that point, I didn’t feel so crazy. Well, not
until towards the end of the year…
It was three weeks before finals. Anxiety was awake with me that night as I could only think about all the homework and tests I would have to do (ahh freshman me, so young, so innocent). It was already two in the morning and time
seemed so still. I rolled onto my right, my roommate was already in deep slumber. I rolled onto my left side, my mind kept racing. I turned onto my right again. A woman was standing right in front of my face. She was a glowing pale white, freckles all over her dented cheek bones. Her hair was red as blood, with piercing red eyes that stared right into your soul. She looked not just angry at me, but furious. As through I just stole the last slice of pizza that she was saving. My heart sunk 6 ft deep into my chest.
I kept staring at her while trying to figure if I should scream or run. I decided the best thing to do was roll over to my left. I grabbed my blanket and pulled it over my head as I switched positions. All while saying to myself, “Nope, not today.” My Face towards the wall again, trying to comprehend what I had just scene. “Was that an extremely real nightmare? Why was she so angry? Did she want my soul? Because I already signed that away to Sallie Mae.”
I popped my head out of the blanket and looked behind me. All I see is my roommate, who is still snoozing away in blissful sleep. The woman was gone. No trace of her anywhere. It wasn’t until junior year, a classmate told me about how people see a red haired woman walking around late at night.
As the glorious spooky season is upon us, let us remember these simple rules: Always check your candy, always say
goodbye when exiting a game of Ouija, and never mess with women. Because we will get you back, even in the afterlife.
hendsabr@my.dom.edu
