( @dustin-parrish )
Being a spirit had it’s disadvantages, but it also had it’s perks. One of those perks happened to be enhanced laziness. Rather than wasting time sauntering around a residence in his path, Dean realized he could simply float through the residence. In his usual trips through an abode, he was in and out within seconds. Invading the personal space of others wasn’t high on the Dean’s list of pastimes. As he floated through this specific residence however, a kid playing a board game took Dean by surprise.
Dean’s sudden change of emotions prompted the lights to flicker. The lights only flickered for a brief moment, but it was enough of a contrast between light and dark to be seen by the kid. Since his presence wasn’t visible but known, Dean contemplated making the kid’s experience with an Ouija board memorable. Throughout Dean’s life, he never believed in the credibility of Ouija boards. They were a child’s toy and nothing more. As a ghost, his opinion on Ouija boards completely changed.
“Screw it.” Dean let out a prolonged sigh. He didn’t see a harm in attempting to communicate with the kid. There was almost nothing bad that could come out of a children’s game. The ghost took a seat opposite to the boy. His fingers were placed gently on the planchette. “Don’t say I didn’t try to help you kid.” Knowing they’d go unheard, his words were kept at a soft level.
His mother was going to kill him. Literally
kill him. In the most painful way possible. Making a vow to never let her find
out about this, ever, Dustin broke the line of salt behind their house, hidden
underneath a small layer of dirt. If he was about to try and talk to ghosts, he
couldn’t leave that line intact. Even though his mother had just told him it
kept out “bad influences”, there was a high chance this would keep any ghost
from entering the property.
Inside his room, Dustin got out the old
Ouija board he’d bought with his own money and hidden in his wardrobe. Sitting
cross-legged on the floor, he removed the packaging and put it down in front of
him. He’d planned this very carefully. His mother had another night-shift at
the hospital, his sister was at a friend’s house and his father was doing
something work-related again, but he didn’t know what. This meant that he had
the house to himself. No one would walk in on his attempt to speak to a spirit.
And more importantly, if things went wrong, no one else was going to get hurt.
Putting his fingers down onto the piece of
wood, he took in a deep breath and waited. And waited. And waited some more.
Nothing happened. Wait. He was supposed to ask something, right? Because if a
ghost was nearly, he needed to address it before it would move the wooden
piece, obviously. “Hello?” Dustin asked. “Is anyone there?” He felt so stupid,
speaking those questions into his empty bedroom. “Hello?” he tried again.
Okay. So either ghosts weren’t real, or
they couldn’t move things around, or they had better things to do than talk to
teenagers. He sighed. Ever since Nora had mentioned ghosts, he’d been dying to
speak to one. And of course, the easiest way to do that had to be with such a
He waited some more. And more. The more
minutes passed by, the more discouraged he felt. He was about to put the board
back into his wardrobe when all of the sudden, the lights in his room began to
flicker for a small second. Holy fuck.
“Hello?” Dustin asked again, his heartbeat becoming quicker. “Is anyone here?”