Prologue
I always had a recurring dream when I was younger. I never knew exactly what it meant. And I’m not sure if I ever will. My mother always told me I should keep things private. I should always keep disturbing things, or facts, to myself.
9 Years Ago.
For confidential reasons, the real names of my childhood friends will be kept private.
I was about 9 years old when my first encounter with an Ouija Board happened.
A few of my friends and I always had an “overactive imagination” as my mother would call it. We would always explore abandoned places, and we eventually became an inseparable family.
Mostly because people like us had broken homes, and all we had were each other. My friends and I were definitely addicted to the paranormal side of things growing up. We didn’t really care if it was bad or if it could harm us. We wanted to know things other people didn’t. All of that was fine. Until it became a f****d up nightmare we couldn’t escape.
The first time I ever laid my delicate hands on an Ouija board was when I was approximately 9 years old.
My friend Samantha had called me, and our two other friends. She finally decided that tonight was the night, and we were to meet her at her trailer because her mom was on a Florida vacation. So Dexter, myself, and Ryker all planned to meet up, as discussed in our phone call.
We lived in a relatively small trailer park, so it hardly took us five minutes to meet up with each other and walk to the designated place we were supposed to meet. Although, I can’t forget that night leading up to the events. The weather was a fine summer night. It was very still outside. You couldn’t even hear the leaves rustle against each other. What better way to spook your friends then absolute silence? Am I right?
We all met outside of Samantha’s house around 12:05 AM.
Samantha comes outside with a warming smile and says to us:
“Do you know what the witching hour is?”
We were all a bit confused.
Who doesn’t know what the witching hour is?
There was absolute silence from all of us. Dexter slightly hesitates before answering with another question.
“You’re not actually taking this seriously, are you?”
I was certainly appalled myself.
Samantha’s smile slowly fades into quiet anger.
“We’re waiting until then to start.”
Ryker stayed in silence, before having the courage to follow her into her trailer. We trailed right behind him after a moment of second guessing.
The hours seem to be tremendously painful as they slowly went by.
I remember watching adult swim right before I fell asleep. And then a violent push on my shoulder. I wiped the crust from my eyes to see Samantha obviously excited.
“It’s time.”
Both her and I woke Dexter and Ryker. Dreary eyed, they slowly got up and Samantha told us where to sit.
I was casually placed between Ryker and Dexter.
“Now wait here!”
Samantha ran to the spare closet that was directly down the hall. In her hands is a dusty Ouija Board. Out of curiosity I asked her where she had gotten it from. Her response, even being a 9 year old child, put fear into my chest.
“The last people who lived here left it.”
Now I know what you’re thinking. This is going to play out like every horror movie. But it most definitely didn’t.
She gently placed the board in between all of us.
“Now all of us place our hands on the planchette.”
A bit cautionary, I was starting to rethink if this was a good idea.
I was younger than all of them. And like every kid. I just wanted to be cool.
Samantha eventually got irritated with me, and violently told me to put my hands on the planchette. She was my best friend. So I always did as she said.
She dimmed the lights and lit some black candles.
This encounter, was just the beginning of torturous years to come.
None of us knew why Samantha was being so hostile about the situation. Knowing her behavior was a little off-putting, we focused our eyes on the board. There was a long pause before all of us settled our hands on the planchette.
Samantha looked at each of us before she spoke.
“So, who’s going to ask the first question?”
There was an interlude of silence before Ryker quietly spoke up.
“I will.”
Samantha seemed to be pleased that we were following her commands like a lost puppy.
“So, uh, is anyone here?”
For about five minutes there was no response. Samantha pressured Ryker to ask again.
Not wanting to make her upset, he did. But in a more firm voice this time.
“Is ANYONE here?”
Again, nothing.
“This game isn’t as fun as I thought it would-”
And just like that, the planchette moved to “YES.”
As our fingers cowardlessly moved along, we all asked the usual question.
Who’s moving it?
The room filled with excited giggles and laughter.
“Alright, alright. What’s your name?”
Dexter bravely said, in his annoying, cocky voice.
The planchette once again moves our hands to these specific letters.
“C. O. D. Y.”
At this point I wanted to withdraw myself from the game. I had this overbearing, innocent energy radiating around me. And I wasn’t sure how to interpret it.
“Can I ask a question or two?”
For some reason I let those specific words slip out of my mouth. It was like I felt compelled to speak to this specific spirit.
“How old are you Cody?”
I felt the planchette jerk.
“8.”
“How did you die?”
Not only was I surprised that this board was making constructed and intelligent answers, I was surprised by how cold it had gotten in the very room we were in.
“W. A. T. E. R.
T. R. A. I. N.
B. O. O. M.”
Finally, my mind pieced together what this spirit meant. But I had to ask the last question on my mind.
“When… did you die?”
The face of my peers were complete and utter terror. For a moment we thought Cody had left. We didn’t know how to react. But I remember feeling fascinated with this subject. Almost, drawn to it.
The planchette moved once more. Gliding, almost as if it wasn’t even on the board anymore.
“80.”
