“It was a late night my Freshman year, and I was studying in the Del Santo Reading Room. After a couple of hours studying, I grew so bored, so I decided it was time for a brain break and a moment to stretch my legs. Soon, my curiosity took over, and I decided to pop around the reading room and do a little exploring. We all know the back of the reading room with the glass doors. It just so happened that my mobile USF pass let me in. I purposely left the door open. As I explored the archive, I suddenly saw the door close, and I was soon locked into the room I should not have been in the first place. My study session turned into a ghost locking me in the Del Santo reading room.” – Serena Finney, Opinion Editor
“Call me Casper, call me Boo, cause in this story I’m the ghost. I want to take a moment to apologize to my peers whom I ghosted this summer. I wanted to be your friend, I wanted to be your roommate even, but I was spooked and didn’t reply to you. I’m sorry. Since when did Instagram DM’s become the basis of friendship networking in freshman year? Don’t wanna be haunted? Come find me and talk to me in person, enter at your own risk!” – Liam Givens, Copy Editor
“I live in an old house, a creaky one, that has housed many before me. Every night I would hear the floors and ceiling creaking, and footsteps in the hallway. I thought surely it was my imagination acting up due to my fear of the dark. It wasn’t until one day my mother told me to always make sure the cabinets were properly closed before we all turned in for the night. She said the ghosts like to snoop around at night, maybe for a snack from the pantry, or something to entertain them. Then one night, looking for a late night bite, neglecting to close the cabinet all the way. As I turned away I heard the hinges squeaking as the cabinet opened fully, then swung back to close. I rushed back to my room, to the safety of my bed. That night I fell asleep thinking about the ghosts that I really did hear exploring my house in the night.” – Samantha Avila Griffin, Photo Editor
“I was walking alone in Golden Gate Park on a breezy October night. It was the typical route I always took, walking down JFK, but for some reason I decided to walk through Heroes Grove. It was a nice scenic route to take during the day, but because the trees blocked the street lights, I couldn’t see anything. Suddenly, a bright light peaked through the trees and made its way toward me. At this point, I was so tired from a long day that I didn’t have the energy to react. As the light came closer to me, a faceless figure walked up to me. It handed me a glass of liquid labeled “Hot Cocoa.” Pleasantly surprised, I grabbed the glass and thanked the figure and it went back into the trees. Back by myself, I took a sip of the glass. I screamed in horror. It wasn’t hot cocoa. It was bean juice.” – John Lindroos, Sports Editor
“When I was kid, my childhood home had a massive chinar tree in the front. In Kashmir, chinar trees (known for its maple-like leaves) have long been tied to ghost stories and jinn folklore. When I was a kid, my grandma used to feed me by the window, and whenever I refused to eat, she’d point to that tree and say “If you don’t finish your food, a ghost will come and catch you.” I would look at the tree branches swaying away in the wind, get scared and quickly take another bite. Even now, when I pass by a chinar tree I get an eerie feeling.” – Mariha Bukhari, General Reporter
