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It was with some trepidation that she walked down the darkened hallway. Something was lurking in the shadows…something that wasn’t good, something that made the hairs on her neck stand up and Joanne Baker would be damned if she let the fear get the best of her. What she was doing, creeping in the dark like she was, was nothing more than a practical joke set out by her roommates.

Being in university was proving to be an awesome experience, but the whole hazing of freshman had Joanne a little unnerved. This was part of her initiation into her dormitory. She was to creep down the hallway of the old hall, looking for the Ghosts of students past.
It was a silly concept when she thought about it, the idea that students till roamed the hallways of the ancient building, but rumour had it that many died during the influenza outbreak in the early twentieth century and that the hallways which once had students walking too and from class, became their last resting place.

“It’s nothing but a story,” she told herself as she continued walking down the darkened hallway. “Nothing but a scary story told by older students to us newbies to scare the shit out of us. There’s nothing to be frightened of. Nothing at all…”

A loud bang startled Joanne and she bolted from the hallway, her newly turned on flashlight illuminating her way. Story or no story she knew that something was lurking in that hallway and she wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to put her imagination to the test because if her imagination had been wrong, she would have probably come face to face to something that she really didn’t want to see…

And she would have been right. A ghost did haunt the hallways, and it preferred to be left alone at night.

Taken from the word of the day at


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“You’re such a kvetch.”

“I’m a what?”

He bit his lip realizing how his comment sounded. “I meant that you’re a complainer, not a–“

“You shouldn’t be using these big words that I really don’t understand!” she complained, throwing her hands up in frustration. “It’s not fair. I didn’t go to college like you did.”

“I actually went to university,” he began meekly before she cut him off again.

“Now who’s the kvetcher?” she asked. “Complaining about your education.”

He shook his head. “I’m not complaining.”

“Oh yes you are,” she interjected. “You’re complaining. You may not realize that you’re complaining but you are…”

He sighed. “You’re complaining.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not,” she insisted for the final time. “So drop it.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll drop it.”

Taken from the word of the day over at


Filed under, national novel writing month, word of the day, write or die, writing prompt