As the semester wraps up like Christmas gifts poorly and frantically wrapped at 11:58 p.m. on Christmas Eve, Point Park students’ social media has become flooded with sobbing Kim Kardashian memes and wishes to be hit by a car.

But being hit by a car is just one of many possible ways to avoid your problems.

Another way: walk down the street without a destination in mind. Find yourself at the Point, enjoying the gentle spray of mist in your face. Close your eyes for a moment. Feel soothed. Approach the fountain. Absentmindedly run your hand through the water. Find a protrusion in the stone. Press it, curious what purpose it could serve.

Jump back as you hear a rumble seem to come from under the fountain. Look around wildly for any other people at the Point, anyone to confirm that this is actually happening and not a figment of your over-caffeinated imagination. See no one.

Turn back and see that a pie-shaped gap in the fountain has formed, revealing a marble set of stairs. Be reminded of the Chamber of Secrets. Think, “Well, everything worked out for Harry and his friends, so this will definitely go fine.” Descend the stairs.

See an engraving along the wall, scrawled in emerald green cursive: “PITTSBURGH’S FOURTH RIVER. EST. THE MOMENT YOU OPENED YOUR EYES. FOUNDED BY THE CREATURE WHO LIVES IN YOUR PERIPHERY.” Consider turning around. Continue forward, propelled by curiosity but also something more, a feeling of making explicable every inexplicable time the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Reach the bottom of the stairs. Find a river. Almost vomit upon seeing the river is red. Think, “Whose blood? Whose blood? Whose blood?” over and over, unsure if the roaring in your ears is the sound of the river or a psychological response to unspeakable horror.

Watch the river change from red to black, then to yellow, then to blue and feel your horror recede and be replaced by a confusion that feels like happiness in comparison.

Walk along the bank, which is made of black sand. Look up to the arched marble ceiling. See a glow in the distance. Promise yourself you’ll make it to the glow and then go back to your home and Point Park and everything you’ve ever known.

Reach the glow.

Realize that the glow is in fact a spectacularly pale woman.

Realize that the spectacularly pale woman is in fact a ghost.

Feel, somehow, that this ghost is the spirit of Pittsburgh, even though that sounds like a terribly named boat.

Wait for her to speak. Realize that she is waiting for you to speak. Speak.

Ask, “How ‘bout them Stillers?” Hate yourself as soon as the words leave your mouth. Frantically think of something else to say so you can both move on from this mortifying moment.

Ask, “How can I best serve this city and its diverse range of problems?”

Listen as she says, “Stop procrastinating by going on mythological journeys. This has been wholly unproductive for you. I have no ancient wisdom to offer you. Go home and do your homework. Get a degree. Cultivate healthy relationships. Be well.”

Go home. Do your homework. Get a degree. Cultivate healthy friendships. Be well.