Maryland Tale of Terror

Here's another DRL first.  (Mind you, that's two in one week!)  

We are stamping a WARNING on the post of

 Marion Pellicano Ambrose --- 

This one is "Freakin' CREEPY"!

...proceed with reading at your own risk.  
It's a nightmare on Lounge Street

Marion Pellicano Ambrose

Several years ago I took a group of 8^th graders to the National Junior Leadership Conference in Washington DC.  Several side trips were planned, including one to Baltimore. While there, I met a high school teacher who told me the story of a young girl who was a senior at the Boarding school where she used to work.

Angie was a dedicated student. She was also a considerate friend and roommate. Finals were approaching and she decided to burn the midnight oil each night in order to study and earn an A. She knew her roommate was a light sleeper who took early classes so she chose to study in the basement recreation room, which would be empty at that time of night. After a few hours, she realized she left one of her textbooks back in her room. She trudged up the three flights of stairs and tiptoed down the hallway. She quietly opened the door and slipped into the pitch black dorm room. A strange metallic smell assaulted her senses and she heard a faint dripping sound, like a leaky faucet. “I’ll have to have
maintenance check that out in the morning” she thought. As she slowly groped her way to her bed, where she knew her textbook lay, she noticed heavy breathing coming from the direction of her roommate’s bed. “She must be getting a cold.” Angie thought. She grabbed her book and slipped back out and down to the basement.

The first rays of light came streaming in the basement windows as Angie packed up her books. A couple of hours of sleep sounded good to her, so she headed back to her room. She opened the door and began to scream and shake uncontrollably. 

Girls from both ends of the hall rushed to her door and to their horror, saw Angie’s roommate lying on the bed, her neck slit from ear to ear, blood dripping down to the floor. The metallic smell of blood was overpowering. But that was not why she was screaming. The most terrifying thing was this: On the wall above the roommate’s bed, written in blood were the words,  

"Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?"

We are now suggesting a "Wanna Laugh" or a "Jillian" to reset the visual in your brain!