Santa Fe Ghost Trail
As I sat down with the narrator in his dorm on a Sunday afternoon—not the most appropriate time for ghost stories—he told me this well known ghost story from New Mexico. The storyteller is an 18-year-old male freshman majoring in international relations who is from Bethesda, Maryland. He is biracial with an American father and a Taiwanese mother. Born in California and raised in Colorado, the storyteller is a converted Christian. The teller was in the Boy Scouts, which is where this story comes from:
There’s this really small highway town in New Mexico called Cimarron, and it’s small now but in the late 19th century it was a bustling crossroads for all sorts of people – gold speculators, ranchers, oilmen, and especially those vagrant characters, like Billy the Kid, seeking refuge from whatever lawman was on his tail. In Cimarron is this hotel, the Santa Fe Hotel, and they say that this place is the most haunted hotel still in operation, in the west. The lights flicker on and off, and people, visitors just say they encounter really weird things – like if you go in this one room, you might see a woman out of the corner of your eye, sitting on the windowsill and looking out for someone. And when you turn to face her, she disappears, but all of a sudden you smell a subtle waft of strawberry-scented perfume. Weird – yet you still not sure if this is true? Sounds sketchy, I know. Oh – I should say this hotel is haunted because 23 people have been shot to death in the hotel, either from a bar-fight or card-game or something. Well I went to stay at the hotel for a night, before I headed on to a nearby Boy Scout camp. I went with my troop, and we all got our own rooms. Guess what room I got – the strawberry lady one! I was really nervous when I went to bed that night – I didn’t want to see no old lady reeking of strawberries! Fortunately I didn’t, but this did happen to me: as I was closing my eyes, I started hearing these really weird popping sounds. Like, click-click-click. Over and over again – and they actually got louder! Okay, there was nothing – nothing – in the room that might have did that. No fan, no heating, no AC, no television, clock, watch, whatever! It was the most basic hotel room ever. And the clicks sounded as if something was floating above me! Like circling above me, like a swarm of bees or something. I was scared sh*tless, but I just tried to go to sleep. And never opened my eyes until the morning, when the bright sun shone in the room. Going to breakfast, I saw the bullet holes left in the ceiling by Billy the Kid and other saloon fighters, and heard the stories told by the kitchen staff about plates and silverware that would randomly fall to the ground and break, and the flickering lights, and other freaky things which I forgot.
Even though the storyteller did not personally see the ghost, the story still possess many of elements that are similar to all ghost stories. First, the ghost story...