Aren’t You Glad You Didn’t Turn on the Light?
A Reimagining of the Campus Urban Legend
When I entered the dorm room, the lights were off.
It was a little past 2 a.m.
The hallway was quiet, and almost all the lights under the doors had gone out.
I held my shoes in my hand.
I wasn’t that drunk.
I just didn’t want to wake my roommate.
She had an exam the next day.
I went to a party; she stayed in to study.
Before I left, she said:
“If you come back late, don’t turn on the light. I really need to sleep.”
I told her I wouldn’t.
So I opened the door carefully.
The room was dark.
The desk lamp was off, the curtains were closed.
A bit of hallway light slipped through the door crack, but the bed area was almost pitch black.
I walked on my toes.
My backpack was on the desk.
My wallet and charger were inside.
I had to leave early the next morning, so I planned to grab my things and sleep in a friend’s room.
A sound came from my roommate’s bed.
Soft.
A muffled gulp.
I froze.
I thought it was just her breathing in her sleep.
But then it came again.
This time it sounded like someone swallowing with a blocked throat.
I looked toward the bed.
I couldn’t see anything in the dark.
“You okay?” I whispered.
No answer.
I thought I saw the blanket shift slightly.
I almost reached