Not long after moving into her dorm at the Village at Fort Brown, Linda Flores was surprised to hear her roommate, Claudia Romero, dismiss the stories of ghosts with a laugh.
“That’s just a bunch of nonsense, Linda. There’s no such thing as ghosts. People just want to make university life sound cooler than it is.”
“But, Claudia, think of all the thousands of people who died here: the Mexican-American War, the Civil War, the cholera epidemic….”
“So?” her friend shrugged. “People die all the time, everywhere. Doesn’t mean their spirits are haunting every square inch of the planet.”
“No,” Linda said, trying to be patient, “but here they dug up the bodies and moved them 100 years ago. Or so they said. Then one summer three hurricanes hit one after the other, and they found coffins and stuff floating in the resaca. I’m pretty sure there are still bones under our feet, disturbed by our every step, restless.”
But Claudia laughed all of this off until a few weeks later. Linda was awakened in the middle of the night by her roomie’s startled gasp.
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