Breaking: Icicle Falls, Piercing My Chest and Killing Me

Let me tell you the story about how a seemingly normal day in my life changed everything. I was walking from the high rises along the beautiful Locust walk. Locust isn't always my favorite: I bump into my friends and people I met during freshmen year that I choose not to say hi to anymore. Sometimes I happen to stumble over a missing cobblestone or two, and others I get a mini heart attack from almost slipping on a leaf.

But all that changes now that the icicles lights are here. They bring me hope, joy even. Because on seeing them, I know, the possibility of one of them shooting down straight into my chest, piercing through, and liberating me of this painful existence is not zero. I know that there is light, quite literally. That, in addition to being liberated from this painful existence, I won’t have to even plan it out or write letters. It’ll just happen and I’ll be free, yay.

Well, it happened. Just last week, light struck me (see what I did there… icicle lights, it struck me? Lightning? Striking? Me? I’m so smart it scares me). I felt it, I felt it happen. And, in a matter of seconds, I was done for. Emergency services got here soon, but not soon enough. I was gone; my soul left my body and travelled to the place it would make its sanctuary: the McNeil bathrooms. 

Now, I’m like the ghost of Myrtle Warren, you know, that whiny girl in the Harry Potter bathrooms. I haunt the freshmen coming in for their writing seminar. I hum hum hum ‘submit your midterm portfolio’ and hum hum hum ‘do your peer reviews.’ And, that’s about it! Pretty fun if you ask me, but also kinda boring. Help!