Last Rites: The Final Words of a Student Trapped in Gates
ReadMe’s most dedicated journalists have recently discovered a letter at the bottom of a Rohr Cafe – La Prima coffee cup, believed to be written by a student who never made it out of the Gates and Hillman centers. Out of respect for this fallen student, we have decided to broadcast their mad ramblings for the whole university to read:
I’ve tried all the doors but none of them seem to open. I walked up and down the spiral, searching for anyone else trapped in Gates, yet I have found no one. Perhaps I will just sit and study for a while, the quiet is nice…
ChatGPT has stopped working. Unable to complete my assignments, I have taken to once again searching the building for any signs of life. I followed a promising stench, that of body odor, only to find that it was just the lingering smell of Gates. It’s beginning to get dark now, my stomach is rumbling as I notice the faint scent of Chinese food beyond the entrance to Newell-Simon. In searching the ruins of La Prima, I have found old coffee grounds and a stale muffin. They will have to sustain me through the night.
There is no light now, only the soft, homosexual glow of Pausch Bridge. I walk up the spiral, dragging my backpack towards the sound of voices. Alas, they are only an illusion.
I march, defeated, back down to my old coffee grounds. Soon, I will hear the voices again and go searching for them, only to discover they are a figment of my imagination. Am I but Sisyphus? Destined to push my belongings up the spiral in search of salvation, only to be tricked by my own mind? I fear I have been damned to live inside Gates for eternity. There is no escape…
There is no escape…