The Mystery of St. Mary 7

Life in flat 7 is enjoyable, partly because I can say "flat" instead of "apartment", but mostly because I have awesome flatmates. There are five of us: Emily, Emma, Emily (Em), Liz, and Leah—confusing, I know. We get along well and we have fun, but there's something not right in our flat. It's the mystery of St. Mary 7. 

At first, I joked that we have a sweet-tooth ghost that haunts our halls, but now I'm genuinely creeped-out. For over a month now, every one of us has had food stolen. Ice cream, biscuits (cookies), chocolate bars, cereal, and muffins, gone. No wrappers, no evidence. Just vanished. Some incidences involved other items in cupboards to be pushed aside where the sweets were hidden in the back. 

Naturally, people ask, "are you sure someone in your flat's not lying?" The answer is yes. I'm positive. Each of us has been victimized and each of us is fed up to the point of reporting to the accommodation office. We've discussed the issue many times, writing and pasting "violent" notes like "peasant, stop eating our food, we're not sharing" to scare off the culprit. So, if it WAS someone in flat 7, they would have stopped, knowing the threats and knowing that everyone knows. 

But the mystery continues in St. Mary's 7. Week after week another sweet goes missing. On the bright side, it keeps me from buying too many sweets, but on the dark side, I'm paranoid every night, checking and rechecking that my door is locked.

Did I mention the building used to be an insane asylum? There are ghost stories of a nurse who tends to the sick on floor 1 and of a little boy who wanders the halls of floor 3 holding a knife. But no one's ever mentioned the sweet-toothed ghost...ooooooooooOOOOoooooooooo...creepy. Now stop stealing our food.