Madeline
“Why are we doing this again?” Mia’s voice trembled, her wide eyes fixed on her sister as they sat on the cold hardwood floor in their shared bedroom. They placed themselves between the two beds with matching floral bedspreads. In front of them sat a closet with mirrored doors. On lazy Sundays, the two of them would play dress up and model in front of these mirrored doors.
Ridley’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Because it’s fun, and I found it in Grandma Johnson’s attic. I want to know if it’s real. I want to see what the spirits have to say to us.” She glanced toward the Ouija board between them with an eager curiosity.
Mia eyed the wooden board skeptically. “Grandma Johnson’s attic? You mean the attic that has been collecting junk since the 1800s?” Mia recalled her mother saying that about the attic once and since then that is always how she thought about it. “What were you doing up there?”
“Yes, that attic. I was looking for mittens.” Ridley said.
“Why would Grandma Johnson’s cat be in the attic?” Mia asked.
“Are you trying to put this off? Come on, don’t be such a scaredy-cat,” Ridley taunted. She placed two fingers on the planchette that sat in the middle of the board, motioning for Mia to join. With hesitation, Mia added her fingers just like her sister, her touch light and cautious. She had only seen boards like this in the movies. And in the movies, something bad always happens.
The alphabet on the Ouija board appeared as eerie gothic symbols. The letters were bold and curvy with numbers and a simple “yes,” “no”. But the most worrisome part of the Ouija board to Mia was the letters, “Goodbye.” What did these mean? Was it that the spirit was done and wanted to leave? Or does this mean the end of the participant’s lives?
The room was dimly lit by an array of candles, casting flickering shadows across the walls, Ridley’s way of setting the mood. Mia’s gaze flickered toward the mirrored closet doors, but the reflected glimmers of the flames unsettled her, and she glanced away.
“Now what?” Mia’s voice wavered. She knew this was a bad idea. She didn’t know if ghosts were real, but she didn’t care to find out.
“We ask for something,” Ridley replied, her confidence masking her uncertainty.
“Like for ice cream for breakfast?” Mia asked.
“No, not like ice cream for breakfast or anything like that. We’re talking to spirits, not Grandma Johnson.” Ridley responded.
Mia’s voice lowered. “What about cousin Harper?”
“Cousin Harper?” Ridley repeated, remembering.
“You know. The one who died. When I was a baby,” Mia said with a whisper as if not to disturb the spirits that might be listening.
“Oh yes, you mean the one who had drowned in the river over by the old mill. I was so young when she died, I nearly forgot about her. How did you remember her?”
Mia shrugged, “I guess I have been fearful of swimming since you had told me that story.”
Ridley thought back to the nearby community pool over the past summer. Ridley would meet with her friends there where they would play games like Marco Polo and Sharks and Minos. She had noticed then that her younger sister never joined the older kids like she commonly did in the park on cooler days. Instead, Mia clung to their mother on the edge of the pool in silence. Ridley figured Mia was being a baby and didn’t want to leave their mother’s side. But now, Ridley understood it was less about their mother and more about Mia’s fear of water.
“Okay, Cousin Harper it is. Now close your eyes.” Mia said. Then she changed her voice, dropping it a few octaves, “Cousin Harper, can you hear us?”
Silence hung heavy in the room as the girls waited for a response.
“Cousin Harper?” Ridley tried again, her voice deeper and with more authority.
“This isn’t working.” Mia withdrew her hands, unease creeping over her.
Suddenly, a deafening bang echoed through the room as the bedroom door slammed shut. Both girls jumped, Ridley’s fingers instinctively lifting off the planchette. The candles were snuffed out, leaving only a faint glow from the single candle still burning beside the board.
“Something’s not right,” Mia whispered, her words tinged with fear. “We are not alone here.”
Ridley tried to suppress her anxiety, but unease gnawed at her. “It’s nothing, just the wind or something.”
Mia searched the room with darting eyes to the window above them. It had been sealed shut by their mother who was desperately trying to keep the heat out earlier that morning. Mia felt a chill in her spine.
The planchette glided across the board without help from the girls.
“What does it say?” Mia asked.
After it stopped moving Ridley responded, using effort to keep her voice steady, “Bloody Mary.”
The planchette took one last jerky move landing on “Goodbye.” Mia didn’t need to ask her older sister what that meant.
Mia’s gaze snapped to the mirrored closet, her breath catching. A shiver ran up her spine as she pushed out the words, “Look!”
Ridley’s eyes followed, and dread clenched her heart as she saw the ghostly figure—an ancient vision with a nose like a talon, etched wrinkles, and an unsettling aura.
“Is that cousin Harper?” Mia asked with a shake in her voice.
“I don’t think so,” Ridley’s voice quivered. “We should go.”
But as they made an attempt to stand, they heard an old but steady voice, “Boo.”
Their screams pierced the room as the ghostly presence engulfed them, and their fear consumed them. The Ouija board, a gateway to an eerie world, had brought forth an inexplicable terror. The girls sat, frozen in place unable to move. Their terror was too much for either of them.
Mia and Ridley’s fear had unleashed something beyond their own understanding, leaving them to the mercy of forces they could not control, and leaving them powerless to this unworldly creature. They experienced a fear unlike what most people fear in a lifetime. All because they dared to summon the unknown from the depths of Grandma Johnson’s attic.
