I was a student in Goddard College's Creative Writing Program (Plainsfield, Vermont). I was working on an MFA and a novel. It was a low-residency program, which meant that every semester I would spend 10-11 days on campus and complete the rest of the work at home with an assigned advisor.
There were many ghost stories circulating: some were about Susan Martin, a witch; suppossedly the beam she was hanged on was now part of Goddard's garden structure. There were also stories about the runaway slaves: the property provided secret hideaways for the runaways. There were even stories about Robert Frost's ghost which is said to haunt the place where he wrote some of his famous poems.
One night, after intense studying, workshops, readings, and writings, beat, I undressed and climbed into bed. I closed my eyes, and something nudged me awake.
In front of me was a bed. I had opted out of the roommate arrangement, and had the room to myself. At least that's what I thought. Instead, there was a silhouette before me. Scared, but curious, I said,"hi." There was no answer.
Everything was dark except for the figure. I couldn't see around me, but I felt that there were more spirits in the room. They appeared to be unfriendly. It was as if they wanted me to leave. I did. I ran into the corridor. No one was around. I sat on the couch in the day room and tried to make sense of the encounter. I was afraid to go back into the room. A couple of hours went by and I heard a door open. It creaked, like someone trying to be quiet but the wooden door and floor betrays them. I was relieved to see a dorm mate hurry by to the bathroom. I didn't tell her about my experience with unwanted visitors. She went back into her room, and I decided to return to mine. I turned the light on in my room and after reassuring myself that the ghosts were gone, I fell asleep. The next day I had a ghost story too. And mine was real. It inspired me to write a short story, "In Her Image."