“Clara- He’s dead.”
These were the shocking words I heard from Sam’s hollow, emotionless voice. His dad had been shot by an alleged business enemy and had been in a critical state for the past 7 hours. Sam had been in the hospital with his dad the whole time, crying his heart out, till there were no more tears left. I stayed there for 3 hours before I left… I couldn’t bear to see Sam the way he was. His dad had put up a brave fight for life but had succumbed to his wounds.
“I- I’m so sorry, Sam! I don’t know what to say except that your father put up a brave struggle.”
“He’s gone. I- He’s gone! I still can’t accept it.”
“I’m with you, Sam… Please don’t worry. I’m coming right over.”
I knew those were empty words, they did nothing to soothe Sam. But I didn’t know what to say.
“You don’t need to. Just- please leave me alone for some days.”
Sam hung up. I felt terrible for him. I knew he loved his dad very much. But… later on, I would realize how much he actually loved his dad.
Sam stopped coming to school. He stopped responding to me, picking up my calls, and even getting out of his home. I tried desperately to talk to him, to comfort him, but whenever he saw me at the door he would just ignore me, even if I rang the doorbell a million times to annoy him into opening the door. I could understand he was sad, but this was way too much. One evening at 9 pm, I was focused on finishing my maths homework when my phone rang. It was Sam.
My heart throbbed with a strange apprehension as I picked up, and slowly raised the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said in a slightly shaking voice.
“Clara, come over right now.”
“For what?”
“Ju- Just come, okay?”
“No, wait, don’t hang up. What happened?”
“I’m trying to contact dad. Today I’m feeling he’ll be here. Come and help me talk to him.”
I felt a surge of fear. Had he gone mad? Insane with depression? All the stories of depressed maniacs ran through my head as I answered,
“B- But Sam… your dad is-”
“I know he’s dead. But I’m sure he’ll come to speak to me. I’m using an Ouija Board. Come over!”
“Sam! An OUIJA board! There’s no way I’m doing this!”
“Please, Clara, please come for my sake!”
“Sam… this is stupid. Your dad’s gone!”
There was silence at his end, and I knew I had said the wrong thing.
“Look, I’m sorry, but Ouija boards are dangerous!”
“Come over. Or you don’t know what I’ll do next.”
“Sam, don’t do anything stu-”
He cut the phone. I felt frustrated and fearful at the same time. If I didn’t go, he would do something idiotic. I had to go. I ran downstairs, told my mom that I was heading out to clear my head a bit, and left on my cycle. (My mom knew how tiresome maths could be.)
The evening was cold. Freezing air gently caressed my face as I sped towards Sam’s house. “He’s stupid, but he needs my help…” These words kept me going. I and Sam were childhood friends, inseparable. I neared Sam’s house and parked my cycle in the driveway. I rang the bell at least 5 times before Sam opened. He looked a mess. His eyes had dark circles underneath, he was wearing baggy clothes, and his hair was ruffled.
“Follow me.” He said.
I followed him to his room. I turned around, wanting to close the front door first, but then thought the better of it and went inside his room.
His room was dark, except for 3 burning candles surrounding the dreaded Ouija board. I felt goosebumps on my body as I looked at it. So simple, yet so menacing… He sat down in front of the board, and I followed suit. I asked him,
“Where’s your mom?”
“Out. She’s gone to a relative’s.”
“Oh.”
We talked no more. Sam raised the planchette and placed it on the G. Then he placed his index and middle finger on the planchette, and so did I. We circled the planchette around the board 3 times, then Sam said this -
“Spirits of the otherworld and ghosts of hell, today I desire to speak to my father, the deceased Peter Jole, and I request you not to interfere.”
Then he started chanting something that sounded straight like some poem Satan would write. After he finished, he asked,
“Peter Jole, are you here with us this night?”
The planchette quivered. I thought it would move, but it didn’t. Sam tried again.
“Peter Jole, are you here?”
Nothing happened. Sam tried a few other questions, and occasionally the planchette would quiver, start to move, but come back on G. This went on for 30 minutes until Sam finally said,
“You were right, this is stupid. What was I thinking?”
“It’s okay, I understand. But this board is just creeping me out and I think you should end this right now.”
“Fine. Goodbye.”
Sam said goodbye but the planchette didn’t move. Sam tried to forcefully move it to goodbye, but it didn’t budge. I was totally freaked out by now. Then suddenly, the planchette moved. It spelled out - “I-A-M-H-E-R-E” Sam immediately fired a question.
“Are you Peter Jole?”
It moved to yes. Suddenly, the window cracked. The glass shattered and flew everywhere. I got many minor scratches from the glass, and so did Sam. I nearly shrieked out,
“Stop this! Let’s go!”
Sam denied. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to move him now that he had contacted his dad. Feeling dread, I watched.
“Do you remember me?”
“S-A-M”
“Do you still love me?”
It was a strange question. Like- if his dad loved him while he was alive, how could he not love Sam when he was dead? But, the planchette moved somewhere that I would not have expected. It moved to NO. I looked at Sam in shock. He wasn’t perturbed in the least. Then the planchette moved on its own.
“K-I-L-L-E-D-M-E. Pause. R-E-V-E-N-G-E”
Sam finally said, “Clara… it’s time you know. I killed Dad.”
I was left speechless as Sam continued, now furniture moving and falling everywhere,
“He was cheating- in fact, he had already cheated on my mom and the other lady he was cheating with had had a son. I noticed him being absent from the house for long periods of time… Then I came to the conclusion that he was spending more time with that other baby than me! I was so jealous. I burnt alive in my jealousy. That other baby did not deserve the time my father gave it. But I did not know how to find it. So I prevented my dad from meeting and giving him time forever.”
The only words that came out of my mouth were-
“You’re crazy! You’re goddamn crazy, Sam! You’re a lunatic, a monster!”
He nodded.
“I know I am, and my father is going to be worse.”
“Wha- OH MY GOD!”
All the falling furniture had risen in the air. A new, deep, growling voice came from Sam.
“ACCOMPLICE OF THE MURDERER, YOU SHALL SUFFER A HORRIBLE, PAINFUL DEATH, I SHALL MAKE SURE OF IT!”
I screamed and ran. All the doors started opening and closing. I ran into the nearest closet and hid. I heard huge thumping noises from Sam’s room, enough to make dents in the marble floor. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I realized what had happened. Sam had been possessed by his Dad.
It’s been 15 minutes since all that horrible noise stopped. I hear heavy breathing, and I know he’s in front of the closet door, toying with me, playing on my fear, waiting for me to open the door… I cannot hide anymore, I guess I will open the door after all…