Ghosts of Future’s Past

The clock on the wall read 11:23 p.m.. A first-semester senior sat on their bed, the brightly lit screen a sharp contrast to the darkness surrounding them; instead of being ambient, their surroundings reminded them of their future prospects if they did not submit their application. Racked by early-onset senioritis, the student had begun their essay three days prior and had now decided to rewrite it, plagued by a nagging feeling that they were not genuine enough. Sure, their stats were perfect, but the future seemed so far off that it was as unimaginable as overcoming pro.

At the culmination of this suddenly profound thought, which directly contrasted with their most recent essay topic (essentially extracurriculars and academics translated into prose), they heard a sudden rat-a-tat-tat outside of their window. They considered that it could be a pigeon or a rat that had learned to jump extremely high, but the noise sounded heavier and almost inhuman.

As gooseflesh began to appear on their forearms, they were met with a “boo!” from a ghost with a drink in its hand and a backpack with a number of pins of European cities, probably from a backpacking trip. The senior squinted in the dim light and tried to remember if sleep deprivation had resulted in a hallucination this severe, but then realized that the person in front of them was familiar—although not entirely whole. Despite Halloween approaching, they had forgotten to adjust to the spooky season in the rush of college applications and did a double take at the person (or rather, phantom) in front of them.

Former seniors are considered gone but not forgotten, but they did not consider that one would turn into a literal ghost. All hopes of the phantom simply being a warning from their body were dashed when the ghost began to speak: “You know, I was just like you once. I used to think everything in life hinged on college, internships, and your future career. Um…I can’t recount all of my advice because I have a very fun event to get to, but in short: don’t be boring and get a life before you regret it.” The ghost then left to attend the very interesting event (a beginner bungee jumping class). Although the class began in the morning, talking to a high schooler reminded her of her former (and current) lack of a personality, and she had no idea what else to say, so she left. As for why she was a ghost, she was unsure, but clearly this was a blessing in disguise, and she was being called to impart advice to the less fortunate and feel better about herself, like that book by Chuck Dickonson.

Although the clock is now ticked closer to midnight, the senior began to ponder the importance of self-exploration: Would it truly help them become a more fulfilled person? As if in response, the next ghost appeared—the contrarian everyone hated, but pretended to tolerate. He immediately began to speak, more concerned with the sound of his own voice than with questions from the increasingly anxious and drowsy senior. His monologue was frankly boring and pretty much just said business was the best major over and over again, so the dozing senior remembered only one sentence: “Get that bag, bro.” He left as quickly as the last ghost for his alleged “six-figure finance job,” although his voice seemed better for lullabies than for boardrooms.

The last student was remembered as relatively kind during her time, and the protagonist perked up a bit, seeing things seem to have turned up. She stated something along the lines of her first protest being the only communal event she had ever enjoyed. She seemed genuinely happy, but her general message was tuned out when she suggested taking a gap year to “find yourself,” which seemed a bit tone-deaf considering the person she was speaking to was minutes from missing their application deadline. As she branched off into discussing varied types of advocacy, the senior finally lost the fight against consciousness. They woke up late, and due to sleep deprivation, only a faint remembrance of their dream remained: “The key to happiness in early adulthood is avocado face masks.”