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The Locked Door

Jamie Dvorak, Alberta Canada
January 2000

Lately, I have developed a keen interest regarding paranormal experiences. Since I have never experienced any encounters with the supernatural (I'm still not sure whether or not I should be grateful for this factor), I have had to rely on my boyfriend for the ghost stories I so long to hear.

I find it worth mentioning that my boyfriend is from India... as this is where the story I am about to tell takes place.

The tale unfolds itself on Utkal University campus, a post-graduate school located in Bhubaneshwar, Orissa. My boyfriend's brother had taken up residence in the Hostel used for students who wished to live on campus. During his stay, he came to know that there was one empty dorm within the Hostel, permanently locked up by the university. The history behind the locked room was well-known by many of the students on campus.

Many years back, a completely frustrated and over-worked student (is there any other kind?) had committed suicide and was found hanging from the ceiling fan, one of which was installed in virtually every dorm. The university chalked it up to the never-ending stress of university life and the individual's apparent inability to deal with the pressure.

However, in the years that followed, one by one, the students who were assigned to that room killed themselves, in the same, or similar, fashion. Recognizing the pattern that had formed, the university took it upon itself to lock the room up permanently, and as a further precaution, removed the ceiling fans from every other room in the Hostel.

Interestingly, my boyfriend's brother (we'll call him Ranjan) was unfortunate enough to be assigned the room directly beside the forbidden room. The months stretched on uneventful, but as the holidays approached, the campus began to clear off leaving a few lonesome residents alone in the Hostel.

It was during the quiet and lonely times that the noises coming from the locked room could be heard. Ranjan recalls noises of someone sweeping the floor, footsteps treading back and forth across the threshold, and other eerie noises; trademark of all hauntings.

Going to the washroom was a true thrill, and he packed his bags and changed rooms as soon as possible.

Jamie Dvorak, Alberta Canada
00:00 / 01:04
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