Most students at Skidmore College have heard the whispers that a ghost haunts the campus. But few know her name—Cecily Rowe—and even fewer know why she remains here, wandering the corridors, unable to leave.
The year was 1946. Cecily was an ambitious music student, well-known for her talent and drive. Her senior recital was the talk of campus, her original compositions earning her both admiration and envy. But the night of her final performance, something went terribly wrong. Cecily vanished without a trace, leaving behind only the haunting melody she had composed—a piece that, to this day, no one has ever played correctly.
Legend has it that Cecily’s spirit is trapped at Skidmore because of her unfinished symphony. She had been working on the piece for months, pouring her soul into every note, but she never had the chance to complete it. On the night of her disappearance, witnesses claim to have seen her frantically scribbling notes backstage, as if racing against time. But what was she running from?
Some say Cecily had uncovered something in the music, something she shouldn’t have—a melody that wasn’t hers but one that possessed her. Others believe she was cursed by a rival, jealous of her talent, who cast a spell on her compositions to ensure she could never finish her work.
Whatever the reason, Cecily’s spirit remains bound to Skidmore, doomed to wander its halls in search of a way to complete her symphony. Students have reported hearing faint piano music in the dead of night, the same haunting melody echoing through empty rooms. Others have seen her apparition—pale, desperate—lingering near the recital halls, her fingers moving as if she’s still composing, still trying to finish what she started.
But why can’t she leave?
Some believe Cecily doesn’t want to leave—that she’s waiting for someone who can help her finish the symphony. They say she seeks out musicians, those with a gift for composition, luring them into late-night practice sessions with her ghostly melodies. And once they hear her music, they are never the same. The notes haunt them, invading their dreams and pushing them to the brink of madness as they, too, become obsessed with completing the cursed piece.
But Cecily's intentions may not be so innocent. There are whispers that she’s not merely waiting for help—she’s waiting for someone to take her place. That once her symphony is finished, she will be freed, and her successor will be trapped in her stead, cursed to haunt Skidmore for all eternity.
So, the next time you hear a faint piano melody in the dead of night, be careful. Cecily might be calling out to you. And if you follow her music, you might just become the next chapter in Skidmore’s haunted history.
Will you finish the symphony? Or will it finish you?
Will you dare to listen?