Haunted literature at Harvard

Haunted literature at Harvard

November 5, 2019 0 By Stanley Isaacs


AMANDA GORMAN>>Forget what they told you. The house was red that fall. Not blue. I know because when it was all over, the panes
matched my rainboots. STUTI TELIDEVRA>>We snuck in one afternoon,
because nighttime was a step too far. Inside, though, the house was shrouded in
midnight’s darkness. EMILY GORDON>>We walked into the first and only room. It had many entrances, but no exits to return us to
the rainy street. In the pitch black, I smelled tears and felt
my bones vibrating from the screams that had never been heard. CHRISTIAN WAGNER>>The screams clung to my ears, screams whose keepers had long since passed from this earth. They scratched stories into the surface of
my brain, overwriting parts of myself with their brief moments of existence. MARGARET BUTLER>>The screaming dulled, and
something akin to sense came back to me. Looking around the room, I saw that I was
the sole person left standing. The red had seeped beyond the socks, into my boots. KARINA GONZALEZ-ESPINOZA>>The house was still
and lifeless, so unlike what it had been only moments before,
but I was the one to truly change. Lost and never to be found again. If you see me in the window, go ahead and stare, but if the colors start to shift and your ears ring, run as fast as it lets you.