Rumors circulate around Littlefield dormitory, UT’s oldest residence hall. Does more than just dust float through these nearly 100-year-old halls? Perhaps, even the ghost of Alice Littlefield herself?
I lived in Littlefield dormitory during my freshman year. Things were mostly normal. Mostly.
One memory comes to mind instantly when I recall my time there. For you to be able to understand it though, you have to know a little bit about the layout of the dormitory.
At the end of my hall, a narrow corridor lined with doorways and history , there was a singular desk and a singular chair. I had found it was a strangely peaceful yet eerie spot to do homework or study late a night. When I sat at that desk, the whole world seemed a little quieter, a little colder, and a lot more isolated.
It was rare to see anyone else in that hallway. If I saw anyone at all, they were gone in a moment or two, vanishing into their dorm room or the communal restroom.
There was no one and nothing to distract me. It was the ideal study spot. I couldn’t understand why such a perfect place was always vacant.
One night, I was at the desk, finishing an essay when my phone lit up. A snap from a friend.
On my screen, her face was morphed with a filter. So, as any 21st-century teen would do, I went to send a fun, filtered photo back or at least I tried to.
My Snapchat applied the face filter, just as it should. Except, there was no face in the camera’s line of sight.
A chill went through my body as my phone registered a face I could not see, and then two. The empty hallway before me that suddenly seemed very much not empty at all.
It had to be a mistake or so I thought. I restarted my phone, tried one filter after the next, positioned the camera at different angles but the filtered face remained, staring. It was always staring.
I can’t say for sure the face was Alice Littlefield. I can’t even say for sure it was anyone at all. All I can say is now I understand why no one sits at the desk at the end of the hall.