This is what happened:
I was on the patio using an X-acto knife to free the pieces of my B-17 model airplane kit from its plastic framing. Maggy and Jill were playing next door on their swing set. I heard the side metal gate rattle open. A moment later, David appeared. He had a big grin. The one where his dimples showed and his eyes squinted tight like he was up to something. He was. He was holding the ouija board.
“This is June’s. The one they used to talk to that angry ghost man,” he whispered.
June’s story of talking to this ghost sounded believable. David became so fixated and fascinated by it that he wished to meet this ghost one day. Before I could even protest, David had the plastic, heart-shape planchette ready, his fingers firmly holding one side of it.
“Right here?” I asked looking at the girls swinging.
“It’ll be OK.”
David began asking questions. We swirled the planchette around the letters. Finally, it began to stop and spell words. I looked at David, his eyes were wide and the smirk was gone.
“I, A-M, H-E-R-E, N-O-W,” David spelled out. “About time a-hole.”
David continued to ask questions and relay messages. My eyes hurt like the onset of a migraine. The metal gate started rattling. Then, behind David, an apparition appeared. The ghost was in black, slender, his skin was pale white, his face had no features. David had no idea he was there.
“Kill David,” he said in a rushed whisper. He reached for the X-acto knife and lifted it to my face. “Kill David, now.”
His voice was calming and it soothed me. It sounded like the right thing to do. I let go of the planchette. The ghost told me to stand, I did. He told me to swipe this knife at David, I did. A quick slice across the neck. David’s eyes rolled back into his head. He slipped out a gurgle. Blood oozed from his neck.
“You wished to meet me?” I said speaking for the ghost. “Well, how do you do?”
I hacked at David until his limp body slipped out of the chair. Blood pooled beneath my feet. Then, as quickly as it began, it was over. I stood there in horror at what I had done. In the pool of David’s blood, I was left to my own devices.
What have I done?
I don’t know what the first sound I heard was – the police sirens, the ambulance, or Maggy and Jill screaming bloody murder. But when I rose, I watched David, he stared wide-eyed up into the sky. His mouth agape. Dimples gone. I thought he would turn his head, smile, and reassure me that everything will be OK. He wished he could meet the ghost, now he has.
The metal gate clanked open. It was a policeman. Gun drawn. “Just make sure June gets her ouija board back,” I told him.
Now here I am.
Copyright © 2015 E.F. Olsson. All rights reserved.
Let me know what you think of this story in the comments below! If you like it, please share it with your friends on your favorite social media sites.
Make sure you follow me on Facebook and Twitter!
You can always get in touch with me by leaving a comment below or by email: EFOlssonAuthor@gmail.com. Thank you for lurking through the halls.