A Place I will Haunt When I am Dead

If you’ve ever lived in a building that’s been standing for over 300 years, there’s a good chance the hallway you just trudged through has been walked by hundreds—maybe thousands—of other people.
People who are now, well… dead.

Welcome to my university.

It’s one of those old, broody, limestone-covered places that looks like Hogwarts if Hogwarts had 8:30 a.m. seminars and tuition bills. The story goes that the ghost of the bishop who founded the school still hangs around the building. Honestly? Fair enough. If I built a university, I’d haunt the hell out of it too.

Anyway, the other day I was thinking about him—Mr. Ghost, probably sitting at the dining hall table watching students try to eat soup with a fork—and casually mentioned to my friends:

“You know the rooms we’re living in? They’ve probably been used by hundreds of students before us. And statistically speaking… those students are dead now.”

They were flabbergasted.
Which was weird to me. Like… you’ve really never thought about that? Your bed has a ghost history. That’s just math.

So, I’ve decided: If I ever become a ghost, I will absolutely haunt my first-year dorm room.
But only if a girl moves in. I’m not taking any risks spending eternity smelling dirty socks and body spray. And to be clear—I’ll be a respectful ghost. If she’s changing, I’ll politely float through the wall and haunt someone’s toaster in the kitchen instead. I’ve thought about this. I'm not a pervert.

Also, being a ghost could finally give me a chance to show my parents where I lived. They never got to visit me in Canada, but as a ghost I could take them on a midnight tour of the city. Show them the quad. The corner store. My favorite crying bench. And best of all, I’ll still have a place to crash at night—if souls even sleep, which I deeply hope they do.

So, dear future Room 48 girl:
If you ever feel a slight chill, or hear the sound of coffee being made when you didn’t make any, don’t worry. It’s probably just me.
Or worry. Honestly, I don’t care. I’m dead.

With love and light (flickering ominously),
Your Roommate from the Beyond