Please note that this E-Mail has most likely been sent from a scammer or someone who cannot be trusted, and as such, it would not be wise to click on any external websites that leave as they could contain unwanted content.

Subject: Dancing Down an Indian Hallway in Darkness
From: <>
To: <>
Date: Monday, 2 January 2017 17:28
Size: 95 bytes

Hi there James, you might like this story

My cousin recently moved here from Secunderabad, India.

On a recent road trip exploring America, we were shootin'
shit and exchanging ghost stories and laughing at
similarities and differences between American
ghost stories and Indian ghost stories when I asked her
if she's ever experienced anything supernatural.
Her eyes widened as she averted her eyes to the window.
Just when the silence was about to be too much for me,
she softly responded 'Yes. A few. One is troubling.'
'When I was a second year in college, I stayed at in
an all-girl hostel [dorm].
I made many friends. We were all very happy to be in
school away from our conservative parents. The hostel
was so much fun, but it was a very very old building.
Electricity was only put in the rooms. Sometimes, candles
were placed along the windows if a watchman was present,
but normally once you left
the rooms, you were faced with complete darkness. It's
common to wake up someone if you needed to walk down to
the restroom at the end of the hall.
We all had a childish fear of being alone in the dark.
One night, I had to use the restroom. It was about 4am.
I went to my friend's bed and tapped her on the arm.
She immediately opened her eyes as soon as I touched her.
I apologized for bothering her, and told her I needed to
pee. She smiled at me and hopped out of bed. All the way
down the hallway, she laughed and danced.
I could not see her at all, but her bangles clanked
together loudly and the bells on her anklets jingled
softly. It was very calming.
I laughed and sashayed my hips down the hallway with
her, too tired to match elaborate arm movements.
She said nothing to me, though occasionally I heard
her hum one of our favorite Bollywood songs. The same
thing happened on our return. I fell back asleep easily.
I awoke fairly late the next morning to the sound of
men in our room. They surrounded her bed.
I bolted from my bed, prepared to protect my friend,
when I realized they were administrators of the college.
I peered over closer.
My friend's lifeless eyes were fixated on my bed; the
same smile on her face.
Her time of death was 11:30pm, almost 5 hours before
I woke her.'