Tori Lu

It is said that the Stacks, housing millions of books in Sterling Memorial Library, are also home to a ghost. 

This ghost was once a lonely first year, Class of 1999. Hours away from home, driven by an unwavering passion for intellectual pursuits and impelled by five-and-a-half credits of readings and essays, he was not very social. Instead, he spent his evenings studying in a carrel in the Stacks, enjoying the view, the quiet and the solitude. He began spending hours upon hours each day on the top floor. Allegedly his name was George, but nobody was sure. He did not have any friends due to his time spent secluded — people barely even knew his face. His name is lost to history. 

One blustery fall evening, when the sun had already set and a bone-deep cold blanketed New Haven, George made his daily trip to the Stacks. He settled in his carrel for another night of philosophy readings. However, after weeks of this routine, approaching the peak of midterm season, his body worn down by stress and near-chronic sleep deprivation, when he tried to comprehend one more chapter of his Aristotle reading, his soul finally detached from his body. Have you had times when you find yourself reading the same page countless times but not registering any of it? Or staring blankly at a wall with no conception of how much time has passed?​​ This means your soul has begun to roam. But, in this case, his soul went so far that it could not find its way back.

With his soul gone, George suddenly lost his moral sensibilities. He had a sudden urge to go into consulting after graduation, despite his 200 volunteer hours with nonprofits in high school. Because of the uncertainty surrounding his identity, we do not know where his soulless body ended up, but we do know where his soul is: the Stacks.

Filled with regret of how he spent his short time at Yale, his soul has become a sorrowful spirit that still haunts the Sterling Stacks, yet to understand ancient philosophy. Now, he seeks out first years that venture into the Stacks, hoping to find a friend. 

However, given George’s unfamiliarity with the social scene at Yale, his quest for friends is not harmless. If you lay eyes on him, he will simply steal your soul. You will then be cursed to the same fate as him: eternally wandering the Stacks as your body goes on without you. 

So, next time you think you hear someone in the cubicle in front of you, or you think you see a reflection in the window… don’t look.