Chapter 19

In an old, abandoned attic, two men sit, drinking beer. The roof has partially collapsed, letting the bright sun shine through its gaps. Steve opens his backpack and pulls out a small device. It’s shaped like a cellphone, but has two giant nobs on the front. He places it on the wooden floor between them. Looking at Ron, he asks, “You ready?”

“Let’s do it,” Ron responds.

Steve turns the knob, lighting up the screen on the device. As it turns on, a high pitched screech startles the men, making them both cover their ears.

“TURN IT OFF,” yells Ron.

Steve reaches down, switching the knob back to off.

Ron removes his hands from his ears, “What was that?”

“I have no idea.” He drinks his beer, thinking. “It should’ve worked. I tested it before we left and everything sounded fine.”

They stare at the device for a moment, finishing their beers. Steve grabs two more from his bag. “Shall we try again?”

Ron takes the beer, chugging it. He then covers his ears, “Go ahead.”

Steve turns the knob, the same high pitch screeching blasting out from the speaker. He instantly shuts it off. “Yea, this shit’s broken.” He puts it back in his bag. As he slides the backpack behind him, he knocks over a piece of wood. He sees the corner of something peaking out behind it. “Oh, no way!” He blows the dust off the board, then picks it up along with the planchette.

Ron sees the board, reading the word OUIJA on it. He’s a superstitious guy and doesn’t like messing with that kind of stuff. Even just seeing it makes him nervous.

Steve puts it down, placing the planchette on top of the board. He puts his two fingers on it. He looks at Ron, “Come on!” 

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He leans in close, whispering, “We don’t know where that came from. What if something’s really here?”

Steve laughs, “That’s the whole point! Don’t be a pussy, come on!”

Ron enjoys hanging with Steve, they’ve been friends forever. He also knows how much of an asshole Steve can be when he drinks. If he thinks I’m a coward, I’ll never hear the end of it. He gives in, placing two fingers on the planchette. The two move it around the board in a slow, clockwise circle, getting ready to greet the spirits around them.

“That’s enough.” Steve says, stopping the planchette in the middle of the board. “Spirits, are you here?”

Silence hangs in the air, making Ron even more nervous. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“Shut it bro, you’re killing the spirit’s energy.”

Ron stays quiet, letting Steve speak. “If you’re here, give us a sign.”

The planchette slides across the board.

 – YES –

Steve looks up at Ron. “Very funny, bro.”

Ron shakes his head, “That wasn’t me.”

“Sure, of course it wasn’t.” Steve grabs another beer from his bag, chugs it, then places his fingers back on the planchette.

Ron starts really freaking out. “No, seriously. It wasn’t me”

Ignoring him, Steve calls out, “Tell us your name!”

The planchette slides around the board. It stops at each letter only for a moment, then moves to the next.

R-A-C-H-E-L

Steve smiles, “Rachel? That’s a sexy name! I’m Steve, this buzzkill is Ron.”

Awkwardly, Ron introduces himself. “Hello, sorry to disturb you.”

“We’re not disturbing her, dumbass. She’s dead.”

“Just because she’s dead, doesn’t mean she wants people bothering her.”

Steve scoffs, “Yo Rachel, when you were alive, were you hot?”

Ron takes his fingers off the planchette. “Okay Steve, that’s enough.”

All by itself, the planchette slides.

– YES –

Steve laughs, hiccuping. “She probably wants me. Too bad she’s dead.”

Ron stands up, “I’m sorry spirit, I’ll leave you in peace.” He rushes out of the attic. “Please don’t haunt me!”

Steve grabs his bag, looking for another beer. “Fuck, i’m all out?” He looks toward the stairs Ron ran down. “He really is a pussy.” A burp bubbles from his mouth as he puts his fingers back on the planchette. “Okay spirit, we’re finally alone. So tell me, how’d you die? You trip over the vacuum or something?” He laughs at his own stupid joke.

The planchette moves. 

– YES – 

“I see you have a sense of humour. That’s rare to find in a pretty woman.” He lets out another burp. “I bet you’re lying, all women lie. You must’ve been uuuugllllyyyy. I doubt I’d even talk to you if you weren’t already dead.”

Ron waits outside. Since the roof is full of holes, he can hear Steve’s arrogant laugh from the street. “What could possibly be so funny, you ass?”

Steve snorts as he makes fun of the spirit. “You were probably fat weren’t you? Or maybe you had no tits. What was it? What made you so ugly?”

The planchette gets thrown across the room.

“Oh come on, I was just joking around.” He sits back, “Women, always so emotional. No wonder no one loved you. If they did, you wouldn’t be stuck here, haunting this rundown shithole.”

About to start laughing once more, he feels a tightness in his throat. He tries clearing it, thinking a burp got stuck. It doesn’t help. It gets tighter and tighter, then feels as if his throat’s being crushed. His body gets lifted from the ground, raising him into the air. His feet squirm as they no longer touch the ground. He feels like he’s being held up by his neck. The drunk man tries to swing at the ghost. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s hit a woman, but he only looks like an idiot as he floats there, suffocating.

A noise squeaks from his mouth. “Okay.”

The spirit releases him, dropping him back down on the hard wooden floor.

He rubs his butt, “That hurt, bitch.”

Ron sits outside on the grass, looking around the abandoned neighbourhood. He can no longer hear his friend’s laughter. Everything goes quiet. The silence is then shattered by a scream. He looks up to see his friend crashing through the roof, his body flying through the air. He gets half way across the street, then falls, splattering on the pavement.

Dumbfounded, Ron walks over, “Steve?” He calls out, getting closer, “Yo, Steve?” He sees his friend’s head, squashed like a watermelon. Before he can look away, vomit comes gushing out his mouth. He runs away as fast as he can, leaving a trail of puke as he goes.

Ron never found out what happened to his friend. The police ruled it a suicide. After a long time of feeling guilty about Steve’s death, he decides to go back.

He walks up to the attic, “Hello… Do you remember me?”

After no response, he decides to just talk to himself and see what happens. “I’m sorry for the way my friend acted and treated you. He was never good with women. I just hope that now he’s at peace.” He spots the Ouija board and planchette in the middle of the room. Weird, the police said they couldn’t find the board.

He walks over, staring at the planchette. He sits down, placing his fingers on it. He takes a deep breath, “Steve, are you there?”

The planchette moves, startling him. It spells something out.

H-E-L-P M-E

Ron calls out, “Steve, is that you?”

The planchette moves once more.

G-O-T Y-O-U

Got you? As Ron reads those words, his throat starts to squeeze. He realizes it wasn’t Steve he was talking to. The oxygen is being cut off from his brain. As he starts to black out, he sees the planchette move once more.

– GOOD BYE –

After Steve’s ‘suicide’, the police have started patrolling the abandoned neighbourhood every few weeks. Two officers spot a parked car outside the abandoned house. Noticing no one inside the car, they check the house, going up to the attic. There they find Ron’s body, hanging from a rope.

The older cop sighs, “Another suicide? They’ve really gotta tear this neighbourhood down. This is the ninth person to take their own life around here since I started this job.”

The younger cop looks spooked. “Yeah… I think I’ll call this in and wait outside.”

The older cop, alone in the attic, takes a look around. He finds a Ouija board behind an old piece of wood. Interested in the occult, he takes it out, placing it on the broken table next to him. He puts his fingers on the planchette, and looks at Ron’s hanging body. Curious, he asks, “Is there anyone here?”

– YES –