Housing Horror Stories We Can’t Make Up… But Kind Of Did

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It’s a fact: October is everyone’s favorite time of the year to be spooked. We dress up as witches, hang ghostly decorations, and carve terrifying jack-o-lanterns in anticipation of our favorite holiday: Halloween. But, before you pay for 20 minutes of terror at a haunted house or hayride, check out this mostly fictional (but based on true events)* account of what we all know to be the scariest part of fall: returning to MSU housing.

A Bloody Bad Roommate

Josh was so eager to move away from his parents and into a dorm with someone who really got him. When he met his roommate, Tyler, he knew immediately that they’d become friends. They had everything in common, from their major, to their favorite bands, color and food.

Josh and Tyler were inseparable throughout their first semester, but Tyler was a night owl. He was always up, even in the middle of the night, hours after Josh had crashed. He always wondered what Tyler was doing at 3 a.m. when his desk lamp was still lit. They had the same assignments, and they did them together. If it wasn’t homework, then what was it?

One night around 2 a.m., Josh woke unexpectedly to a bang. Groggily, he sat up in bed, noticing that Tyler’s bed was empty and the bathroom light was on. He decided to investigate.

“Hey man, you oka-” he started to say, until he felt his foot dip into a gooey drop of liquid.

He lit his phone’s flashlight to check what the hell was on his sock, and horrifyingly, realized it was blood.

“Yeah, I’m fine man. Go back to bed! Sorry if I woke you,” Tyler said from the bathroom.

“Dude, but there’s blood out here. What’s going on?”

“What? Nah. You’re seeing things. Go back to sleep.”

Josh was so tired that he threw his sock into the trash and crawled back into bed despite his fear. He trusted Tyler. Maybe it was just a bloody nose, or something personal. But when he awoke the next morning, both the blood and Tyler were gone. After multiple missed calls and ignored texts, Josh began to search the dorm. The shared bathroom, closet and dresser offered no clues. After bolting all the doors, Josh opened Tyler’s special mini fridge that he’d always said was for his secret stash of alcohol.

Josh couldn’t breathe. The fridge was filled with mason jars, each brimming with red liquid, so full the liquid was oozing around the lids. Josh grabbed a jar and threw it in a bag. He knew he needed to show an RA. Frantically, he put on his shoes and grabbed his lanyard. He picked up his bag and started to leave when–

“Hey Josh.” Tyler stood in the doorway smiling.

Gas Emergency

Amy’s return to Michigan State meant a return to her job as an RA, which meant that she had to solve people’s bizarre problems for the second year in a row. Hoping that a move from Brody to Gilchrest would mean having a more low-key lifestyle, Amy accepted that she’d be living in a smaller dorm with a less-than-stellar caf.

Most of her residents seemed normal, if one can ever describe their residents that way, but there were a few she could tell would cause her problems. One day, she overheard a freshman on the phone with her mother. The girl was clearly upset.

“But mom, I’m not kidding. She won’t quit farting, and it’s actually a problem. Am I supposed to keep the windows open in January, too?”

Amy walked away, partially because, even as an RA, she didn’t want to get involved in something so dramatic, but mostly because if the room smelled that bad, she didn’t feel like hosting a roommate discussion in there.

However, the roommates’ issue erupted, as all farts do, into chaos and madness. The upset freshman knocked on Amy’s door with such fury that Amy had to hold back hysterics when she saw nothing but angry eyes over a surgical mask.

“My roommate. Will not. Quit farting,” the girl said breathlessly.

And so, the roommate discussion was staged, and the three came to some sort of odd resolution about the farting roommate’s diet.

Not even a month later, the terrible 2000’s ringtone of the RA phone awoke Amy at 3 a.m. It was the freshman on the phone, and Amy could just barely hear her voice muffled behind her usual mask. Her roommate was farting again, and if she wasn’t moved out by tomorrow, she was going to SUE.

Ah, to live in the dorms again.

*Yes, these are true stories. But, we added some fiction to ~spice~ them up.

Danielle Schwartz is a senior studying English and professional writing. When she’s not writing or taking pictures of her dog, you can usually find her eating a veggie burger or drinking Irish Breakfast tea. Check out her dog pics on Instagram at @danielleeilleen.