\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1259291-Ouija
Item Icon
Rated: E · Other · Mythology · #1259291
A girl tells her story about how an ouija board changed her life.
Ouija
         
         I don’t know why I never took it out. Maybe because it was underneath all of the other boxes and games. Maybe because if I tugged on it just a bit, everything on top would fall on to the floor. And I would have to clean it up. If there’s anything I wont do it’s that. I barely pick up the clothes on my bedroom floor. Everything I own is usually in some untidy stack when it could be put neatly away. But that’s me.
         The one thing I had never had to do was clean up a mess that I had put myself in. Not a physical mess, I mean. One of those ones that usually starts from lying or simply different points of views. Those make your life topple to the ground like books that are stacked up too high. Except it feels even worse, because if you don’t clear things up it only makes your life that much more miserable.
         So, all those times I ignored the Ouija board it only made life worse. Then, one day it was raining outside and I was left at home with my younger sister April. We didn’t know what to do.  I think we spent ten whole minutes looking blankly at the game closet and pretending to search for something to do. Finally she pointed to that dusty box that I had never taken down before. So, very carefully I pulled it off the shelf. And took the cap off. It looked pretty lame at first. But it seemed better than nothing. So, we set it up and placed our hands on the sides of the mysterious reader.
         I think my creepiest experiences were with that board. I began to obsessively take it out and ask it questions. Even when I was with friends. And each time they left the house a bit paler than usual. I still remember the first question I asked it:
         “I doubt this thing works,” I said to an exited April, “So don’t get your hopes up, ok?”
         She nodded. I swallowed, “Right...er…should I go first?”
         She nodded again.
         So I asked it a simple question. One that I knew the answer to, or thought I did. “Did I ace my history test?” I was pretty sure I had. After all, I had studied for hours. It was still creepy even though it gave us the answer, “no.”
         “See, it doesn’t work.”
         “What if you didn’t ace your test?”
         “Well I did.”
         “How’d you know?”
         “I just do.”
         I went to school the next day, ready to prove the stupid game wrong. The teacher came around, passing our tests face down on our desks. A couple of kids got sent outside because they hadn’t take in it yet. And finally we were aloud to turn our tests over. I did it so fast, that for a second my vision blurred. My teacher had written a note: “See me.” I hadn’t looked at my grade. Judging by the note I didn’t want to. Finally, I forced my self to lift my hand off of the red markings. 45%. After all that studying I had failed. Worst than failed.
         That day creped my out. The Ouija board was right. It wasn’t one of those cheap magic eight ball things, that was for sure. So I started using it more and more. It never failed to answer correctly. Pretty soon I was getting nightmares. I knew I had to stop it. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The Ouija board became an obsession. One that I wish I could’ve gotten rid of. But it took way more than a few sleepless nights before I stopped using it.
         I hadn’t know this entire time that April was using it too. She wasn’t as effected by it, but it still played a part in her life. I was once sneaking downstairs to have a go at it, and may I add, by myself. It was my first try alone. Apparently April was quit a master at solo style. She watched me scare myself, and then decided to play with me. When she had left I asked it a question that had been nagging at my sub-conscience for ages.
         “Will I ever quit using the Ouija?” I asked under my breath.
         Slowly I watched it work its magic. The answer stared me in the face. “no.” I didn’t want to use it anymore. So, I hid it behind tons of games and junk, only to find that I missed it. But I refused to take it out. I wanted to prove it wrong. And I did. Now I look back on my obsession, and am not sure what drove it. Whether it was curiosity or the creepiness which brought a sense of satisfaction I’ll never know. If I wanted to I could always ask the Ouija board, but I’m over that. One thing I did notice was that it made me act in certain ways. If it told me that I was going to fail my quiz tomorrow, then why bother studying? Why bother even trying? Its true power is the player. The participant is a tool. The more it is used, the more believable it becomes. Maybe faith is really the true power. Without faith the Ouija board would never work.
© Copyright 2007 Miranda Jones (dippedquilpen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1259291-Ouija