You want some real-world college weirdness? Have some real-world college weirdness:
So this a true story, at least as far as I can remember. It’s been a while since my school girl days at a to be unnamed liberal arts college in New England (look, that’s just because I don’t like to put too much self-identifying information out there, honestly it’s easy enough to guess and I’m happy to tell if anyone cares to know, but whatever).
Past the school grounds, looming over the forests that surround the athletic fields there was an old abandoned psych hospital. It was closed in the ‘90s and after the abandonment some film (the name of which currently escapes me) was set there. Naturally there were also a great many utterly tasteless stories about the hospital. Most of them were about the poor conditions, but there’s such ableism to making mental illness the subject of your horror and having personally dealt with mental illness for quite literally most of my life I just don’t have the fucking patience, you know?
Anyway, it was generally accepted that the forest surrounding the grounds was an unmarked graveyard. One of my house mates actually did a project on the subject way back in first year. Now when I was a first year the buildings had been marked for tear-down, but students would still sneak up there to look around.
I remember quite fondly the spring afternoon I went up with a friend of mine. It’s actually one of my happiest memories. It was warm and bright out, the trees were just starting to green and the daffodils were in bloom. While we were friends even then we were not yet close. I think of this is one of those reckless, careless little adventures that roots a friendship. I had just finished studying for a midterm and was skipping morning class to go up to the hospital (I had a Medieval history midterm that afternoon. I did just fine, in case you were wondering).
The friend in question had already explored the main building, though we were unable to enter. Demolition had started and the grounds were swarming with construction workers. Instead we went around to one of the newer wards, found a gap in the fence and just went on it. We spent the morning walking through the halls (often having to skirt big ol’ holes in the floor) and taking pictures; she with a camera, I with my crappy flip-phone (Smartphones were not yet a thing, I am really old).
On the way out we walked on one of the old abandoned roads to get back to campus when we saw this huge black dog. We didn’t get a good look at them, it just stopped and watched us for a bit before wandering off. I wanted to continue down the path and look at it, but my friend isn’t overly fond of dogs (and was somehow convinced it was actually a wolf. Looked more like a black German Shepherd to me, but whatever, she was the bio major) and was concerned for our safety so we turned back. Probably for the best really.
Now that was waaaaaaaay back when I was a lil’ first year. The next time I went to the old hospital I was a senior. I was not planning on returning. It was a beautiful day and the leaves were all rust and ember and amber colored and the sun was that rich orange you only get on late October afternoons. So I decided to go for a walk down in the woods.
I walked down over the river (pausing on the bright red bridge to admire the reflection of the leaves in the rippling water), all the way to this big hill by the stables. Hospital Hill, we called it, and it was The Place to go sledding. No idea what they’ll call it now that the hospital is gone. Let’s hope it’s something poetic.
Anyway I decided to climb the hill to get the woods just beyond and as I crested the ridge I found a path. Perhaps it’s because I had only been up there when there was snow on the ground, but I had never noticed this path before. It was narrow, cement, and in a state of great disrepair with all sorts of dry leaves and green weeds caught in the numerous cracks.
I remember standing there and thinking about the beginning of every horror movie I had ever seen and every urban legend I had ever heard. I thought about how it was a strange path going into the woods late one October afternoon. I thought about how I was alone. And then, as I so often did when confronted by very reasonable thoughts (and still do truth be told) I completely ignored them, shrugged my shoulders, and made my way down the path and into the woods.
The path grew wider but no more smooth as I went along through the trees. I noticed a few signs reading “No Trespassing” (though I had to go round the front to read them) but ignored them. I have no excuse, I was just young and foolish (as opposed to now when I am old and foolish). As I walked I realized that the path was part of the hospital grounds and soon came across some construction. The main building was already down. No idea why it took almost four years, but there were rumors that it was hard to find workers due to the area’s history.
In any case it was still a fine afternoon and I was enjoying the air, the trees, and reminiscing about the spring morning back when I was a youth. And as I walked I noticed that the trees were growing closer together and I was starting to come by a few of the remaining original buildings. These looked like small houses, I imagine for administrative purposes.
I was admiring the changing sky when I realized it was nearing sunset and I should think about heading back. The sky was still light but the shadows were no longer that dull copper color they become in autumn, but were turning blue with twilight. They were also becoming deeper between the trees and in the hollows of those old buildings.
Rationally I know what happened. I know I was in a scary place, all alone and my mind had a lifetime of cultural cues out of which to make monsters. Rationally I know and I knew this. But goddammit if every single one of my tingling nerves and upright hairs didn’t give the slightest of damns.
Because now I was sure I could see movement flicking at the corner of my vision, now I was sure I could see weight to those shadows, now I was sure I could hear movement and faint laughter coming from the buildings.
And I as I walked I thought to myself “Okay self, no need to freak out. Best case scenario it’s just some kids hanging out. You’ll ignore them, they’ll ignore you. Worst case scenario it’s the cops and they’ll arrest you for trespassing, though more likely just escort you out.” And then the I revised that thought “No. Worst case scenario it’s an angry spirit coming to drag you back to it’s underworld home never to return.”
At this point the beginning of ever single scary story I had ever heard started to run through my mind.
“Okay,” I said to myself “okay, look, you’re not in heels, you’re not the head cheerleader, and you’re not running blindly through the forest only to occasionally shriek and/or look behind you, you’re okay trope-wise.”
But god, I could fucking feel something watching me as I walked away. I at least had the sense not to look back. I considered running. But then I remembered that bit from the Last Unicorn, you know, “You must never run from anything immortal; it attracts their attention.” No idea if I was dealing with something immortal but I’ve always found it useful advice when trying to escape notice. I ignored by fear and marched forward at a brisk stroll.
The sun had definitely begin to set and the forest was all blues. The path petered out and turned to dirt, or at least somehow or anything I found myself on a normal hiking trail. At this point I was started to worry about where I was and how I could back before dark. The path was winding and I had no idea when it would open up into the town. I was getting worried I would have to retrace my steps. I did not want to pass those buildings in the twilight. It was just about when I was considering how fast I could make it back to Hospital Hill when I saw something moving towards me. I stiffed up and waited. It was just a jogger wearing one of my school’s sweatshirts. She nodded to me as she passed and it was a few minutes more before I came out above the athletic fields. Only then was I willing to look back into the trees.
They were dark now. Night was rising from the forest earth. It was very deep and very quiet and very beautiful.
I made it back to the dorms without incident.
But you know, I still have occasion to think about that path, that evening. There’s a part of me, a not-insignificant-part of me that wishes I had explored, that wishes I had stayed to see what was there. Perhaps that black hound would have come from the shadows to greet me. Perhaps it would have lead Elsewhere. Perhaps I could have experienced something truly wonderful. And yes, I am thinking of that Lords and Ladies quote.
I still like to go on walks through the woods, I do so several times a week. Though I no longer go at night. That’s more because I’m in a city and well, there are plenty of mundane reasons not to go wandering through a city park at night. But I still wonder sometimes about that path. I wonder if I’ll ever see it again, now transposed from its home. A path for a place that no longer exists. I wonder what I would do if I saw it again. I wonder if I would follow it.
You know, I suspect-even after all these years-I suspect I would.
