I absolutely love scary stories. I've attempted a few in my writings, but I've never had a full out horror story. I hope this can pull out to be one. I think that I'm not going to be finished with this one piece. There will probably be five others like this (there are seven characters in all).
Anyway, I hope you guys like it!
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Séance [Sé-ance] –noun
1. A meeting in which a spiritualist attempts to communicate with the spirits of the dead.
It was my fifteenth birthday, and my friend had given me a Ouija board. The board itself was unique: It opened up like a board game and had letters from A through Z strewn across it. The letters were green and large. There were the numbers one through nine below the letters, and each one of the numbers was colored a different color. On the top right corner of the cardboard game was the word “Yes”. Directly opposite from it was the word “No”.
I thought it was a dumb board game—the kind that Sam had always given me for my birthday. Hadn’t last year’s been Scrabble or something of the sort? I remembered trashing it the next day. I didn’t play board games and wondered why Sam gave me one every year.
There were seven of us at my birthday party. Lillian sat closest to myself, and Sam was on my other side. Steve was across from me and he was curling Jen’s long, brown hair. Roger was sitting on the right of Steve and the left of Sam. Brianne was sitting in-between Lillian and Jen.
In short: we were circled around the ominous looking board.
“How do we play?” Steve asked and combed his fingers through Jen’s hair. He looked at Sam, expecting an answer.
Sam replied: “Well, I dunno. Read the instructions. They’re in the box, aren’t they?” He looked at me, and I rolled my eyes. I reached into the box the Ouija board came with and pulled out a pamphlet of directions.
“I don’t want to read them,” I muttered and threw them to Roger. He smiled, glad to be included. Roger slid his glasses up his nose and read with a loud voice:
“The Ouija board is a medium used (if correctly) to converse with the departed spirits and souls.”
He stopped reading and his beady eyes flitted to Sam.
“Sam, what did you buy?”
Sam shrugged. “It seemed like a fun game. I dunno what it is. Just keep reading.”
“Did you understand what I just read?” he asked the group. I bit my lip and shook my head.
“The Ouija board is used to talk to dead people,” Roger stated plainly with raised eyebrows. “None of you find that a little bit creepy?”
I snorted. “So, Sam, I hear you brought me a telephone to talk to people in Hell.” Everyone in the group laughed, including Sam. I rolled my eyes. “Keep reading, Roger.”
Roger sighed and read, “The Ouija board is a medium used (if correctly) to converse with the departed souls and spirits. Please follow the instructions carefully.
“First, lay out the Ouija board as shown in Diagram One. Then place the white marker on the letter Q, making sure that the clear window allows the letter to show.”
“What marker…?” I dug inside of the box again and withdrew a white triangle. In the very middle was a clear plastic square. Without hesitation, I placed it on the letter Q. Roger’s eyes went back to the instructions.
“Second, have all members place all of their fingers on the marker. Be sure that it is completely quiet before the séance begins.”
“What does séance mean?” Brianne asked, tugging at her shirt. Her expression was hard and cold, like she wasn’t going to participate without a solid explanation of what she was doing.
“Uh,” Sam said, “it’s like a thing where you talk to ghosts and stuff.”
“Like this Ouija board?” she asked, her face scrunching up. Her blonde hair was thrown over her shoulders, revealing a surprising amount of chest.
“Um, no. The board is just a medium—or a way—to talk to the dead people. A séance is where we actually do the talking,” Sam explained. I nodded; it was beginning to make sense.
In a terrifying, morbid way.
“So,” Steve asked, “does this thing really work? Are we actually gonna talk to dead people?”
“I doubt it,” Roger muttered. “There’s no scientific evidence that could support that theory—”
“Oh, screw the science, Roger,” Lillian said and placed her arm on my shoulder. I smiled. “Who cares if it’s gonna work or not? Let’s just play the game!”
“It’s not a game, Lillian,” Roger said and looked back at the instructions. “No more interruptions this time, please.
“Be sure that it is completely quiet before the séance begins. Have a departed soul in mind before you begin asking questions.
“Third, use a candle for light. Lightness in a room will less likely attract spirits. One candle is all the light needed.
“Fourth, start the séance by asking, ‘Are there any spirits with us today who would like to converse?’. If there are available spirits, they will move the marker to the ‘Yes’ on the board.
“Fifth, begin gradually asking questions. The marker will move to each letter as the spirit directs it.
“Warning: this is not a toy, nor a game. Use with caution.”
Roger flipped over the page and then glanced up at me. “It goes on to explain the history of the board, but I don’t want to read it. Can we start? Or does anyone want to leave now?”
No one raised his or her hands.
“If you do, I’ll go with you,” he whispered. He looked around the group desperately. “Please?”
“Roger, tough it up,” Steve said. Then he looked at me. “Let’s start.”
“Well,” Jen said, “don’t we need the candle?”
“Oh yeah.” I nodded and stood up. “I think I have one in my room. Let me go check. Ah, and we also need someone dead. Like, you know, to think about. Think of one before I get back.”
I walked out of the living room that we were in. My house was dark and quiet. My parents were downstairs doing something, and my friends and I decided to stay upstairs. I headed towards my room and entered it.
It was nearly midnight. My alarm clock’s red digits were bright and bold. I flipped on the lights and grabbed my candle sitting on my desk. The wick was almost burned out, but it would do for another ten minutes.
“Matches,” I whispered. I ran past the living room, where my friends were, and slid on the kitchen floor with my socks. I opened a drawer and grabbed a box of matches.
When I came back to the living room, I asked, “Picked someone yet?” Lillian smiled and nodded.
“Yeah. My grandma,” Lillian stated. I bit my lip. I knew it was going to get a little awkward.
“Okay,” I said, holding out the latter part of the word. I quickly sat down next to Lillian. She smiled warmly and placed her hands on mine.
“Do you have the candle?” Jen asked. I nodded and sat it on the board in-between the ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. Then I whipped out the matches and struck one, igniting it. I lit the candle and blew out the flame on the match.
“Are we ready?” Brianne asked. She looked around the group. Roger was the one that shook his head.
“Nope. We have to turn out the lights. I’ll get it,” he whispered and jumped up. When he sat back down, the candle was the only light. Everyone’s face was covered in dancing shadows.
“Okay, so now we have to think about Lillian’s grandma,” Sam whispered.
“How are we supposed to think about her? We didn’t know her!” Steve said.
I glanced at Lillian and she said, “Well, I guess I can tell you a little bit about her. You know, just so you can get a better image of what she was like. Okay. Grandma was really old.” I snickered, and Lillian nudged me. “She was really old. She was getting close to her hundreds by the time she finally passed away.
“I had some memories with her. Every time I think about her, I get these chills. It’s difficult to explain. I just feel like she’s always with me. Everywhere I go and everything I do. I can feel her.”
“That’s kinda creepy,” Sam muttered and everyone laughed quietly.
“Shh,” I whispered and looked back at Lillian.
“There was this one time when I was making chocolate chip cookies. I was screwing up a lot. I didn’t measure anything correctly, but she never yelled at me once. I remember feeling so bad afterwards. I had ruined Grandma’s cookies. I don’t think I ever forgave myself.
“There was this other time before she died. She lived in this hospital place for old people. Grandma lived next to this really old man who had so many liver spots that it was all you could see. Anyway, Grandma used to visit the old man every day. They used to talk about lots of stuff. I remember her telling me all about her conversations. They were so sweet and tender that I just wanted to give her a hug. She was such a nice lady.
“The old man died shortly before she did.”
The candle flickered. Everyone’s eyes froze on the dancing light.
“Did you see that?” Sam whispered.
No one replied.
I gulped and bit my lip again. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. Talking to dead people? What was I thinking? I needed to toss this board game away just like I had done with all of the others.
I remained still.
“Um, anyway,” Lillian continued, but Roger interrupted.
“No, I think we know enough. Let’s just get this game over with. I’m getting the chill—”
The candle flickered again. My mouth hung open. I felt Lillian squeeze my hand. I squeezed back.
Jen was shivering and Brianne was motionless. Roger, Steve and Sam were all staring at the candle.
Nothing happened.
Roger shifted on the floor and picked up the instructions. I eyed him and shivered. I was getting cold in the dark.
“Um,” he whispered, “are there any spirits with us today who would like to converse?”
“Our hands,” Sam muttered. “Our hands have to be on the marker!” He quickly placed his hands on the white triangle and looked into Steve’s eyes. “Come on. Are we going to do this?”
Steve knew better than to chicken out. He slid his hands across the board and rested them on the marker. Jen followed suit.
Lillian nudged me as she laid her fingertips on the marker. I looked into Brianne’s eyes, and she nodded. Her hands were placed on the marker.
I was the only one left.
“Come on, Richard,” Sam urged. I bit my lip and twisted my finger, cracking it. Then I slowly put my hands on the white marker.
Roger tried again: “Are there any spirits with us today who would like to converse?”
We waited.
I bit my lip harder.
The candle flickered.
Lillian was shaking.
I was too.
I didn’t even feel the marker slowly glide across the board. I heard my friends gasp as it rested on one word:
Yes.
_
I just enjoy your writing that much. *stretches arms out* Thaaat much.
