I moved into the dorms along with everyone else. Parents cried. Dad nearly had a heart attack carrying the mini-fridge in. He said, “This better not just be for beer.”
That was sixteen years ago. I didn’t notice anything was wrong for months. There were always people milling around at the edge of campus, but I’d never given it much thought. Finally there was a flyer for a film festival I wanted to see downtown. I tried to go, but I couldn’t step into the crosswalk. No one can. Something stops you.
No one visits either. Maybe they’re all dead.