Dancing Down an Indian Hallway in Darkness
Date: Tue, 26 Jul 11 04:00 UTC
From: Leon Müller <LordWire@mail.com>
To: TurboHero <turbohero@excite.com>
Subject: Dancing Down an Indian Hallway in Darkness 

Hey there Turbo, I was looking around the net when I
found this cool story on reddit, it would seem that
this person has a good horror story and I know a sick
fuck like yourself likes that sort of thing ;-)

Dancing Down an Indian Hallway in Darkness

My cousin recently moved here from Secunderabad, India. 
On a recent road trip exploring America, we were shootin 
shit and exchanging ghost stories and laughing at 
similarities and differences between American 
ghost stories and Indian ghost stories when I asked her 
if she's ever experienced anything supernatural. 
Her eyes widened as she averted her eyes to the window. 
Just when the silence was about to be too much for me, 
she softly responded 'Yes. A few. One is troubling.'

'When I was a second year in college, I stayed at in 
an all-girl hostel [dorm]. 
I made many friends. We were all very happy to be in 
school away from our conservative parents. The hostel 
was so much fun, but it was a very very old building. 
Electricity was only put in the rooms. Sometimes, candles 
were placed along the windows if a watchman was present, 
but normally once you left 
the rooms, you were faced with complete darkness. It's 
common to wake up someone if you needed to walk down to 
the restroom at the end of the hall. 
We all had a childish fear of being alone in the dark.

One night, I had to use the restroom. It was about 4am. 
I went to my friend's bed and tapped her on the arm. 
She immediately opened her eyes as soon as I touched her. 
I apologized for bothering her, and told her I needed to 
pee. She smiled at me and hopped out of bed. All the way 
down the hallway, she laughed and danced. 
I could not see her at all, but her bangles clanked 
together loudly and the bells on her anklets jingled 
softly. It was very calming. 
I laughed and sashayed my hips down the hallway with 
her, too tired to match elaborate arm movements. 
She said nothing to me, though occasionally I heard 
her hum one of our favorite Bollywood songs. The same 
thing happened on our return. I fell back asleep easily.

I awoke fairly late the next morning to the sound of 
men in our room. They surrounded her bed. 
I bolted from my bed, prepared to protect my friend, 
when I realized they were administrators of the college. 
I peered over closer. 
My friend's lifeless eyes were fixated on my bed; the 
same smile on her face. 
Her time of death was 11:30pm, almost 5 hours before 
I woke her.'