Spooky Stories

by Ramya Sridhar, Editor-in-Chief


by Ramya Sridhar, Editor in Chief, Front Page Editor, Covid-19/Mental Health Editor


The season of spookiness is upon us! Here are a few bone-chilling tales that’ll keep you up at night. 


When Charlie has to leave

I hate it when Charlie has to leave. My parents are always trying to explain to me that he’s sick, and that’s why he can’t be around. They tell me how lucky I am that my brain works and functions in a way that Charlie’s doesn’t. They don’t understand how boring it is for me to stay without my little brother. Every time I ask, they tell me the same thing; your boredom is nothing compared to your brother’s. He has to sit inside the dark four walls of the institution. Still, every time, I beg and plead my parents to bring Charlie back to the house, and each time, they reluctantly agree. However, Charlie’s visits have gotten shorter and sparser. I think it’s because every time he visits, strange things happen all over the house. The mutilated carcasses of the neighborhood pets begin appearing around his room. Razors would be found shoved under mom and dad’s mattress. The water pitcher would be found filled with foul-smelling bleach. My parents are fearful to let him come home now. They say that his illness is endearing, and makes him “good at acting normal” and hiding his sickness from the doctors. They tell me that I’ll have to deal with my boredom if it means being safe from him. I hate it when Charlie has to leave. It means that I have to pretend to be good until he’s back.

Seeing Red

The first day of school is always the best. There’s nothing quite like walking into a room bustling with activity, knowing that it’s a new day and a new opportunity to make friends. Or at least, that’s why I assume most people are excited for the first day of school. I find a different kind of joy. See, I have this power–I can tell when a person is going to die just by the aura that they radiate. Most of the kids my age have a solid green aura–meaning, they still have a while to go. Some have a yellowish, orangish aura–meaning that some tragedy or accident is going to befall them. The best ones, though, are the ones that are the bright, blood-red–their times are the shortest. It’s thrilling to see one of those when they walk past. Most of the time, they’re completely oblivious to their fate. It gives me a sort of a thrill when I see that shade of vermillion. So, I decided to go a little early to school–just to check out the fates of my classmates. When I entered the classroom though, I immediately sensed that something was wrong. There were only a few kids in the classroom when I arrived, but all of their auras were a pulsing, ruby red. Unsettled, I took my seat on the left side of the classroom, closest to the glass pane windows that overlooked the campus. Slowly, the kids started filtering in, and the sinking sensation in my stomach got worse. All of their auras were scarlet, utterly red–like walking stoplights. Unsettled, I looked out the window, only to freeze. Through the windows, I could see my reflection, as well as the reddish haze that surrounded me, tinted slightly by the glare of the sun. I was too stunned to do anything. Then, the door slammed shut, and when I looked forward, the professor strode in towards his desk, his aura a nauseating shade of green.