During my stay at Kenyon over fall break, I saw… things. Terrifying things. Unimaginable things. Barely describable horrors, plaguing the campus, crawling to the surface once most of the College’s affluent students were tucked away safely in their New York City beds. Dare you peek into this Pandora’s Box of Kenyon horrors? You have been warned… what you see might SHOCK you… join me, as I reveal some of the cursed events I witnessed over break.
For real though, the silence is actually pretty okay. I’m someone who enjoys a good ol’ quiet time. Crossing the street is faster because the number of vehicles has depleted. There’s no screaming, shouting, or music blasting from Satan-knows-where. There are, however, raccoons. Hoards and hoards of hungry winter raccoons.
Over break was when I saw him… the raccoon to end all raccoons. The Godzilla of the rodent family. The excessively rotund gray ball with teeny arms and leggies and a striped tail sticking out of him. He was the Raccoon God and he wasn’t there to fuck around. I had never seen such a gigantic raccoon in my life, and let me tell you, I have seen many a raccoon. This boy was a MONSTER! As he stared into my eyes with his glow-in-the-dark demon orbs, I felt him reading my soul. I don’t think I’m my own person anymore. I think I belong to him, oh blessed be the Raccoon Father. I toil for him… I am the garbage.
Speaking of wildlife, I also saw a stinkbug in my room. Those critters were supposed to have died months ago. Yet when I reached to turn off my light, a brown six-legged insect was sitting there on my desk as if it were any old thing. He’s still here. You don’t pay rent, stinkbug. Nobody wants you here. I can’t squish you because your scent will bring forth your friends and I can’t put you outside because it is too cold for me to move. I wonder if he’s going to die soon. I caught him eating my plant, overcame my fears, and flung him into the bathroom the other day. Nobody touches my plant– especially not a stinky, stinky boy.
I would’ve been out and about enjoying the human-free scenery, but unfortunately I was knocked out during the entirety of break with the most horrible plague. I sent letters to my daughters, Eutrice and Jeanne-Marie, detailing my last will and testament (and also how I wanted the house burned so the plague wouldn’t spread through the town). My symptoms were a Russian roulette of fever, extreme congestion, bone-rattling coughs, a fiery sore throat, dizziness, and body aches. I ate chicken noodle soup for every meal, three days in a row. Most of the folks I spoke to on campus were also sick. Alas, my efforts to contain the plague were futile. I told Eutrice and Jeanne-Marie not to burn the house.
When I did eventually make it out into the frigid morning air, I went to the bookstore to get some of my homework done. Little did I know that I had wandered into the Kenyon apocalypse. I was innocently reading a book for my WGS class when a ridiculously loud voice echoed through my ears: “WARNING. THERE IS AN EMERGENCY. PLEASE EXIT THE BUILDING IN A SAFE, ORDERLY FASHION. DO NOT USE THE ELEVATOR. I REPEAT, DO NOT USE THE ELEVATOR.” This was strangely polite for an emergency warning. Nonetheless, I looked to the woman behind the counter for directions. She shook her head and shouted, “THEY’RE TESTING THE ALARM.” Ah. A test. That definitely helps me return to my reading, despite the disembodied computer lady screaming at me full force.
I couldn’t have gone to Gund Commons to work because it was locked at random times throughout the day, despite multiple students still being around and needing a public place to study. The mods and academic buildings were all shut, so we’re usually promised Gund until everything’s up and running again. But nooo… the CAs had to call Campus Safety to let people in. Cursed. Cursed, cursed, cursed.
I thank you for your time and hope this serves as a guide for if you ever have to survive Cursed Kenyon. Happy winter and stay warm!