Charlotte Green Skin

In late October, it doesn’t take much to get a college student’s heart rate up. Three days of walking around on four hours of sleep will make anyone a little frazzled and just saying the words “due tomorrow” sparks fear in their hearts. No matter how much they may rather spend the last week of October partying in sexy costumes, they will inevitably spend part of that week cooped up in a room trying to finish several different papers by their deadlines. If you walked around, the easiest guess for spookiest thing on campus would be all the zombies that walked around pretending to be students. That guess is wrong.

A couple days ago, I was coming out of class with my friend Jordan. A big wall of storm clouds had rolled in early that morning, covering the sky in a blanket of slate gray clouds. “What are you going to go do now?” I asked her. 

“I’m probably going to head to the library and work on this paper I have due tomorrow. What about you?” “I was heading home to my room and get a bite to eat. I should spend some time in the library too, though. I have a presentation in the morning and I could use some quiet to review my notes.”

“Well, if you decide to come through you know where to find me.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably shoot you a text when I’m on my way.”

“Alright Maddie, I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Catch you later.” I gave her a hug and walked home. 

A few hours later, around 10 o’clock at night, I finally remembered that I told Jordan I was coming.All the clouds finally decided to open up in the interim, unleashing a torrential downpour. I grabbed my laptop and hoodie and rushed out my house. I crossed campus to the library and rode the elevator up to the ninth floor. Up there, the wind was pelting raindrops against the glass and it was deafening in the silence of the largely empty room. I walked past the bookshelves toward the spot we normally sat in, secluded from the noise of all the onlookers hoping to catch a glimpse of the usually gorgeous view. When I reached our table, however, Jordan was nowhere to be seen. Her stuff was there though. The chair was still warm like she had just been sitting there and the laptop was still unlocked with her essay on the screen. I decided to text her and see if maybe she had gone downstairs to get a cup of coffee. 

“Hey,” I typed “are you still in the library?” I got a reply instantaneously. 

“Yeah.”

“Where?” That time I heard the sound of her getting a notification. I looked up and found her phone on the ground next to her backpack. I picked it up and stared at the screen, perplexed. Suddenly, I hear the sound of a phone keyboard. It was Jordan’s phone.

“I’m still here on the ninth floor.” My eyes jerked opened wide. I could start to feel my heart race. I walked around corners hoping to find her walking around, maybe from the bathroom. I took every step gingerly, as if the floor had been laced with traps. Crack! My body tensed up as a big snap of lightning passed right before the window. When I looked back to where I was headed, there was a figure in long jade green robes. They outstretched their arm and something began to stir in my stomach. The figure curled its long sinewy fingers and felt it pull on something from inside of me. I could feel myself drifting away slowly. My body was becoming weak and frail, my skin was pallid with forest green. Snap! Another bright volt of lightning filled the room.

Suddenly the figure was gone without a trace. Something inside me wanted to find out where it went, but I quickly acknowledged that that part of me was trying to get me undead. I piked up my bag and ran to the elevator. As the elevator opened, I heard a faint voice that sounded like Jordan saying “I’m almost done. Just a few more sentences and I’ll be ready to go.” That was the last straw I ran in that elevator and never looked  back. I have never gone back to the ninth floor and I don’t plan on doing it anytime soon. One day they might be able to explain what happened to me, but I won’t go up there to find out. 

About the Author

Andrew Walker Watson is a junior International Studies Major. He loves Brazilian rap music, discovering useless facts, and, naturally, writing. If he could ever stop staring out into space, he would like to start a global movement to change the world and guest host Saturday Night Live.
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