My Encounter With the Brittany Hall Ghost

I don’t even like horror movies

I was fairly excited to be dorming in Brittany Hall my freshman year and, inevitably, after just the first week of moving in, I’d heard about the ghost of Brittany Hall.

The story goes that a little girl named Molly died in the building when she fell down one of the elevator chutes back when Brittany Hall was under construction as a hotel.

So around Halloween my freshman year, people on my floor became especially taken with the legend of Molly: blaming randomly falling objects on the little girl playing in their room, or saying a Buddha statue being shifted on a desk was because Molly wanted attention not because their roommate happened to bump into it.

I thought the stories were cute.

One night in particular, I remember having a few issues falling asleep. Then as I started to drift off there was a weighty pressure on my chest.

I was nervous to open my eyes for some reason. I didn’t think something was there but there was a weight as if someone was leaning over me. Maybe one of my roommates had come home and was trying to wake me up. Maybe I hadn’t put away my laptop and now it was pressing against me and causing this pressure.

But while trying to rationalize what was happening the nervous anxiety grew into complete fear and panic. My body began to feel heavier and none of my limbs would moved even though I willed myself to pop up from the bed and just see what was causing the pressure.

I stayed like that for some time, mentally screaming at my body to listen to me until finally I managed to open my eyes. And there she was, hovering right above my bed, staring at me. Her hair hanging down in blonde tendrils that looked dark in my unlit room. I think she giggled but then quickly darted into my closet.

I could finally move without her over me. I hadn’t realized that whole time I was holding my breath and I tried to breathe deep enough to calm the residual panic of the situation. Out of the corner of my eye I could still see a figure in my closet but I ignored it, pulled my covers over my head and forced my eyes shut until morning. Naturally, I didn’t get any sleep that night.

On one hand I don’t believe in ghosts, but on the other I do believe in the power of someone to be so scared, and half asleep, that the impossible seems real. So enjoy the spooky season and if you see Molly, ask her what she had against me getting a good night’s rest.