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Column: Hauntings on the Hilltop

With two uncles that work here and many friends that study on the Hilltop, I heard my fair share of Bradley ghost stories before coming to campus.

As the non-believer that I am, I listened to the paranormal accounts, but never really gave them much worth.

However, after almost two years at Bradley and an experience I had last week, I can now say with confidence that our campus, or at least Sisson Hall, is haunted.

I spent the night of March 24 in The Scout’s office in Sisson working on homework and writing articles. It wasn’t until about 3 a.m. that I decided I needed to nap on our couch.

On the outside of the office’s door, we have a lock that looks like the ones used for real estate. Entering the four-digit code allows the entire front metal half of the lock box to come off, revealing a key attached to a metal chain inside.

So, before my nap, I made sure the lock box was secure, locked the door from the inside, and fell asleep for a couple of hours.

When I got up and opened the door, I saw the front half of the lock box laying on the ground and the key dangling from the inside of the box.

Slightly freaking out since I thought I was the only person in the building, I decided to sit back down and work on homework again until I could muster up the bravery to walk out of Sisson.

About ten minutes later, I heard the toilet flush.

Now, I’m aware that the sound of a toilet flushing usually does not make someone want to shit their pants, but the toilets in Sisson are old and not automatic. The bathroom is directly across the hall from the office and the door was open, so I should’ve seen someone walk into the bathroom.

The toilet then flushed another two times over the next 20-minute period, so I hurried out of the office faster than you can say Bloody Mary, never seeing or hearing a person in the building with me.

Call it what you will— an old lock, weird plumbing or personal insanity. But, the next time you are pulling an all-nighter and you see or hear something strange, reconsider chalking it up to a lack of sleep; it probably is a ghost creeping in the stall.

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