Phone

It's a very special phone book. I can't tell you where I got it or who gave it to me. All I know is one day it was in my hand. 

As I flipped through its pages, it took me a moment before I realized that I recognized each of the names written in a simple, neat script. But they weren't the names of my friends... Each of these people had died. All that was written in the phone book was their name and a phone number, each one different--specific just for them. 

I could call my best friend who died suddenly when I was nine. Or my grandfather who had only just died a few years ago. 

The phone book frightened me at first but then one day when I came home from school to learn that my parents were separating, I finally decided to dial one of the numbers in the book. 

The phone rang and rang and rang. And just when I thought I would get the operator, someone picked up. My grandmother. 

Don't ask me how I knew it was her. I just do. It was something in my soul. 

After that, I found myself using the phone book to call family and friends I had lost too soon. 

For months the phone book was mine--all mine--until I learned that my friend's little brother had just passed away after being diagnosed with cancer. 

I ran to their house as quick as I could and was engulfed in the suffocating grief. I spent the afternoon with the family, cooking dinner for them, doing their laundry, and offering hugs when I could. 

As I went to leave for the night, something made me stop and turn back to my friend's mom. 

"I-" I started but stopped, wondering what they would think of me. The feeling of the phone book in my bag hung down on me, weighing me down. This was something I could not keep from them--the power of the phone book needed to be shared. "I think I know of a way to talk with Julian."

My friend's dad who was a bit old fashioned, scowled at me. "Our son is in heaven," he informed me. "We won't be able to speak with him again until we join him."

"You're wrong." I knew there could have been a better way to handle the situation but I didn't want his beliefs to get in the way of his wife and daughter talking to Julian again. This phone book had been a precious gift to me and I knew it would bless them just as much as it had blessed me. "There is a way," I declared, pulling the phone book out of my bag. 

"A notebook?" My friend shook her head, clearly confused. 

"A phone book," I corrected her before opening it and flipping through it. "It has the name of every person I've ever known who passed away--my friend Katie, my grandparents, Brad from school..." My voice drifted off as I came to the final and newest name in the book. "And Julian," I whispered, placing the book in his mother's hands. 

She stared down at the name and the assigned number beside it, trembling. 

"How?" She looked up to me for answers though I had none to give. 

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. But I do know that it works. I've talked to everyone in here. But I think you should be the one to talk with Julian."

"It's witchcraft!" My friend's dad shouted, trying to rip the book from his wife's hands. 

"It's not witchcraft," I tried to defend though I knew how difficult that might be to believe. "If you don't believe me, try it--call him."

"I think you should leave."

"I want to try."

We all turned to look and see my friend's mom with her phone in her hand, the number already dialed. 

"Claire," her husband tried to stop her.

She just shook her head. "I have to try," she whispered as she pressed CALL. 

We all stood in silence, waiting to see what would happened. The family was about to give up but I knew it took seven rings before they picked up and as my friend's mom let out a gasp, I knew it had worked. 

"Julian?" Her voice was light and airy but her eyes were wide open as she spun around to look at me. I gave a smile, urging her to go on. She slowly turned and whispered, "Julian, it's mommy..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Six years ago today we got a phone call telling us that my dad's dad had just died. Almost eight months ago, my brother joined him over There. Death is a strange thing...

Julian was the name of a young boy also in Roswell while Jed was there. The doctors sent him home to die, giving him just 100 days to live... That was last August. 

Today's writing prompt was "a ringing phone"... I wish I had a phone book to call each of them and just sit and talk. So many talks I took for granted...

a.r.w.

Becks

“Becks,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Becks,” I repeated. “You can call me Becks. Every one else does.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. This was an intimacy that we had not yet shared with one another. I always felt strange when I heard him call me Rebecca—only my Aunt Audrey would call me that and my mom when I was in trouble when I was a little girl. It was not that I didn't like my name but it just wasn't me—I was Becks to my parents, my friends, and to Jed… deep down, I wanted to be Becks to Lord Death as well.

“Becks,” he finally tried my name for the first time. I could sense a change in the air between us. As if a shiver ran down both of our spines as he whispered my name. In a way, I felt that he was here to replace the hole that Lee had left in my heart. He was something to me, but I just didn't know what that "something" was just yet.

All of my thoughts and sense of reason seemed to freeze the moment I felt Death’s arms wrap around me. His body was pressed up tightly against mine, trapping me between the rock face in front of me and his body behind me.

“What are you doing?” There was no way I could hide the panic in my voice. My eyes were wide and I suddenly felt much more awake than I had only a moment ago, more aware than ever before.

“You are shivering and your teeth are chattering,” his voice was calm and smooth just as it always was even in the most uncomfortable situations. “We cannot build a fire so we must use one another to keep warm through the night.”

“Is this really necessary?” I could feel my heart beat faster and faster the more aware I became of his body pressed up again mine.

“It is if you do not wish to lose another one of your pearls.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I am back safe and sound in the US and less than 2,000 words away from the 50K finish line!

Here is a snippet from what I managed to write on the plane yesterday (after 35 hours of being awake, you'd think I would have managed to get more than 5,000 words...). It looks like Becks and Death are managing to get somewhere... heheheh...

Also! I posted a haiku yesterday, till trying to maintain the "create something every day theme" so if you didn't read it yet, you can check it out here.

a.r.w.

Haze

The world was quiet. It had never bothered me, the silence of these dreams until this very moment as I wandered through the darkness and the mist, not even my footsteps made a sound. As I continued to wander, my nervous creeping footsteps grew into a panicked run and my breathing was silenced by the mysterious mist.

If the haze made me feel nervous and claustrophobic, the silence of this dark, life ess place made me feel trapped. I stumbled, searching for a way out, an exit of some kind—a way to escape from the dream.

As I turned around, suddenly feeling disoriented and unsure of which way I had come from, something bright crossed in front of my face, making me scream… though no sound came from me. In the brightness of the light, I saw Lee’s face, staring directly into my eyes.

I stood there for a moment, frozen in fear. Up until this moment in my dreams, I had watched him scour the haze, searching for me but he was never able to find me… until now.

Without a sound or any sign of what he was thinking, he leapt forward, his hands reaching out to grab a hold of me—he finally found me.

I screamed once more and this time it erupted from my throat.

I leapt up from the bed, my heart pounding and my scream still echoing through the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Dun! Dun! Dun!

 

It looks like the doorway between the Betwixt and the realm of the angels has opened just a bit more. Lee, Becks' guardian angel, has finally spotted her. I suppose it's only  matter of time before he finally gets a hold of her...

 

a.r.w.

Teetering

“Shall we?” Lord Death ushered me forward and closed the door tightly behind us, locking us away from the rest of the world. It was a realization that actually made me sigh in relief… something I never would have thought I could possibly do—find comfort in the idea of being alone with the god of death.

It was strange to think that just a short time ago, I had feared him so much--hated him even.

I would never say that I felt completely comfortable in his presence but, other than Jed, he was the only one in the Betwixt that I was slowly beginning to trust. He had proven himself time and time again since I had arrived here and he had shown me that he did actually have my best interest at heart.

It was something I had never anticipated in this place but as I looked around I suddenly found myself in the lap of luxury, eating, wearing, and living the very finest... far more than I ever had in life. And yet the fine food, beautiful room, elegant gowns, and even the kindness of Lord Death did not take away the longing I still felt in my chest—my deep seeded desire to return home.

It was this strange emotion. I felt that I needed to be home—that was where I belonged on earth in the land of the living surrounded by my family and friends for the next fifty or sixty years.

And yet, it had been some time—a year since Jed had passed away—since I had ever felt so alive!

It took being surrounded by the dead to make me feel more alive that I ever had in my entire life.

I was euphoric seeing my little brother alive, healthy, smiling, and whole once again despite the cost it came with—losing my own life and living out the remainder of my days as little more than a prisoner, separated from what I was intended to be.

My mind was like a see saw, teetering back and forth between feeling homesick and longing to go home to be with my parents and being perfectly content to remain here in the Betwixt, reunited with my little brother for the rest of time…

Not ever having to endure that grief and that indescribable feeling of loss anymore was like finally learning how to breathe again—I didn't want to give it up... which then made me question me sanity of wanting to remain here.

Needless to say, I was confused and I would not be solving any of my problems both real or imagined any time soon.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin from the sound of Lord Death’s voice being whispered in my ear and the tickle of his breath on my cheek.

Quickly running my hand through my hair, trying to rid myself of the shivers and goosebumps that were suddenly popping up all along my arms, I ended up laughing like a nervous little girl, “Oh,” I tried to assure him with little to no effect what so ever, “It is nothing. Nothing…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I managed to get a bit of writing in today... still not nearly as far along as I'd like to be (just broke 30K) but I still have about a week to finish up which is my personal goal.

 

This piece of my NaNo story is very personal to me (if you couldn't tell with the very obvious tribute to my brother in the story). It's reflective, I guess. These are my thoughts if I was in Becks' situation. If I was reunited with my brother over There, I would feel conflicted. Thrilled beyond all belief or words (seriously, there are no words in existence that would be able to come close to describe how happy I would be) but also homesick for my parents, husband, family, and friends. It's that strange separation between Here and There, the world of the living and the world of the dead.

 

This was also loosely based off of a family friend and her message to us after she went to see a psychic. Apparently, there was a very tall young man, standing back and waiting patiently to talk. Finally waving to get the medium's attention, he said to tell his mom that he is happy and whole. Our friend didn't know what he meant (though she immediately knew it was Jed) but we instantly thought of how we had donated Jed's heart and lungs to his surgeon to study... to hopefully help future kids in Jed's shoes. It would be like Jed to patiently wait his turn and be nothing but smiles... I need to learn a lesson or two from that boy (still... I'm always trying to learn from him...).

 

a.r.w.

Beginning

a small beginning

all the forest can be found

in just an acorn

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Here is a haiku for Jed. It is always at night that I relive that terrible day in New York but I try to focus on what came from you and your life and not how sad I am that it was cut so tragically short.

 

a.r.w.

Bewilder

"Hello?" A voice called out through the house, shattering the silence of the night. "Is there anyone here?"

Verona's eyes widened at the sound of the voice. It had been years since her parents left her all alone in this house and she had not seen or heard a soul since. The voices did not frighten her as they might have when she was a child--voices meant visitors and visitors meant that she would not spend the night alone again.

Leaping up from where she was laying on her bed, Verona ran down the hall and peered down into the darkness.

There were three young men, all dressed in black, wandering around the house, calling out... calling out to her.

"Verona, we know you're here!" the one standing in the middle--clearly the leader of the group--called out, his voice booming off the old walls.

"Who are you?" Verona asked curiously as she made her way down the stairs.

"Shh!" one of them hissed. "Did you hear something?"

"No," the other two shook their heads.

Verona let out a confused laugh as she paused in her march down the stairs.

She continued to watch the men; they seemed to be unaware of her presence.

"Hello?" she tried again.

"Okay, now I know I heard something!" the one who had heard her before shouted again as they pointed something her way. She had never seen such a contraption before.

"Verona," the leader turned towards the stairs again, his hands clasped together as if he was begging her to do something, "is that you on the stairs?"

"Yes," she grumbled; she was starting to get frustrated with these men.

"If you are here, show yourself to us."

"I'm right here!" she called out as she ran down the stairs, ignoring their outbursts of, "Did you hear that?" "It sounded like someone was walking down the stairs!"

They continued to watch the place where she had just been standing on the stairs, the black boxes and contraptions in their hands.

"What's going on?" she whispered to herself, suddenly feeling panic rise up in her chest.

She looked around her, searching for something that made sense when her eyes fell upon the mirror hanging in the entryway of her home. She gasped as her eyes locked on the face of the mirror and saw nothing of her own reflection.

Looking down at her lacy, long white dress and brown boots, she spun around to look at the three men in their black pants and shirts with sleeves that showed their arms and strange shoes on their feet that didn't resemble the black boots the other men in her town would wear.

"What--?" she let out a scream as her legs gave out from under her and she collapsed to the floor.

Behind her closed eyes she could hear the sound of the men panicking and shouting to one another. Glancing up, she spotted another one of the strange boxes in their hands lighting up as it pointed towards her. After a moment, she realized that one of the men--the one who had continued to hear her--stood before her. He didn't exactly look down at her, but she knew deep down that he knew she was there.

"Verona?" his voice was soft and smooth as he said her name. It wasn't the harsh commanding tone his friend had; he spoke to her almost as if he knew her. "I know you must be confused," he continued as he moved to kneel before her, his hands outstretched just slightly.

"It's cold around you, Jake!" one of the men behind him said. "A twenty degree difference."

The man named Jake lifted his hand just slightly as he called out to his friend, "I can feel it." Lowering his voice once more, he turned to look back at Verona. "I know you've been here, alone, for a very long time."

Tears began to blur her vision of the man in front of her. She was scared and beginning to panic. Not thinking of manners or propriety, she reached out and grabbed the man's hand, clinging to it.

"Jake, what's going on?"

But he ignored his friend's shouts of panic as he felt the cold, tingling sensation of someone--Verona--taking his hand.

"Help me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please..."

"She's scared," he said, his eyes lowered as his grip tightened on hers.

As he lifted his gaze back up, he nearly jumped as the sight of a young girl with flowing blonde hair held back with a ribbon flickered before him before she vanished behind the veil once more.

"Verona?" he whispered her name.

"Yes!" she shouted, for that seemed to be the only way to get their attention. "Yes it's me! Verona Macintosh!"

"Dude, the EMF is going crazy right now!"

She ignored the other two men and looked directly into Jake's eyes. Somehow, he seemed to find her gaze though he could no longer see her. He continued to watch her as she begged one last time, "What's going on?"

A silence continued on through the house and she began to believe that he had not heard her when suddenly his voice called out in the darkness, "We want to help you, Verona. You've been trapped here for over a hundred years--you died 115 years ago..." His voice trailed off as if he could sense her confusion and terror. "You're dead... and we want to help you move on."

Verona shivered, her eyes jumping from one young man to another. DEAD. The word had not crossed her mind as she had sat alone in her house for so many years waiting for someone--anyone--to come walking through her door.

It was almost too much to bear. Throwing her head back, Verona let out a scream of anguish, fear, and confusion. The lights flickered in the house, the mirror shattered, and the three men jumped back in fear.

After a moment when the silence returned to the house, the three men exchanged a glance before the leader muttered, "This is going to be a long night."

Verona rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. "You said it," she sighed as she looked back up at Jake... he was still looking down at her, a small smile on his face. Whether he heard her or not, she didn't know, but there was something about him that told her that he was not a liar--they were here to help her through this nightmare and she hoped that she would be able to make it through the night.

After a minute she paused and almost laughed at her thought. Of course she would survive the night. After all, she was a ghost.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

This is based off of a fun writing prompt called "a bewildering experience." To me, there is nothing more bewildering than the afterlife, ghosts, and the paranormal... especially if you are unknowingly caught in it!

 

I loved the idea of worlds colliding--modern day ghost hunters find a Victorian era ghost. I'm not sure if I'll continue this story... I am a sucker for ill-fated love stories so perhaps Jake and Verona will be able to see each other more throughout their night together and learn that love can cross barriers of time and existence.

 

October is only a few days away! That means two things:

 

1. Almost all of my posts will probably be spooky, Halloween related (what else is new?)

 

2. Work is about to get cuh-razy. They warned us that October is very busy and hectic where we'll be working most Sundays (that's one of my two days off and my other day off is usually taken up with teacher meetings... Boo....). It is my hope that I can still create and post something every day but if I miss a day here or there, please forgive me.

 

a.r.w.

He was here

I'll admit: I've always been intrigued by spiritual things. My friend, Tasha, liked to use the word paranormal at least six times a day and her obsession rubbed off on me at an early age. It started innocently enough: I would watch Beetlejuice and Are You Afraid of the Dark? on TV as a kid; at slumber parties we would play "light as a feather, stiff as a board," pass around an invisible baby without dropping it, and look into the mirror and dare to whisper "Bloody Mary;" and by the time we entered high school we were creeping through cemeteries late at night and breaking into old abandoned buildings on the weekends, hunting for ghosts. It was all innocent--good fun. At least that's what I always told myself to feel better about the whole thing.

But things changed when I came home to visit on Columbus Day weekend after the start of my first semester away at college.

It was the best time of year--Fall. The days are still long enough to enjoy but there's a crispness to the air. The leaves are changing on the trees and just starting to fall, adding a nice crunch to your step.

Pumpkins and other spooks had begun to appear on people's porches and I stood among the ghosts and scarecrows with my leggings and big, comfy boots and a scarf wrapped around my neck as I waited for Tasha and our other friend Cassie.

"There she is!"

I turned around at the sound of Tasha's high pitched scream as she scampered across the street to me.

The three of us collided into the biggest hug possible. This had been the first time in twelve years that we had been separated for more than a week--the one time Cassie's parents took her down to Disney World. We all went away for college now and sometimes e-mail and Skype just aren't enough.

"How the hell are you?" Cassie could barely stop herself from giggling.

"Great now!" I tried to catch my breath and let my heart settle as I looked at my two best friends. It had only been a month and yet we had all changed so much--we'd grown up. My eyes grew wide as I looked closer at Tasha. "You dyed your hair!"

"And you've gained some weight!"

I stuck my tongue out at her. It was true, the all you can eat buffet at my school had not been kind to my thighs.

"Alright!" Tasha declared, her voice loud enough to echo down the street. "We have three days and two nights together. What mayhem can we bring down on this town?"

*******

 

Our definition of mayhem had definitely mellowed out since our high school days. We spent that afternoon at an old book store looking to add to our neverending "to read" list and our night was spent at my house where we drank boxed wine my mom bought us, eating pizza puffs, popcorn, and twizzlers and watching all of our favorite Halloween movies (Hocus Pocus being at the top of the list... obviously). Saturday my mom took us apple picking and that night we met up with some of our old high school band mates to check out the haunted houses at the local amusement park. And by Sunday night, we were disappointed to find that our old shenanigans seemed to have died out with entering into the "real world."

 

"No EVP sessions." Cassie shook her head in disappointment. "No breaking and entering!"

 

"You are aware that that just sounds horrible, right?" I felt the need to point out. We knew that was what we did but we never said it out loud!

 

"The scariest thing we did was that stupid haunted house last night!" she continued on without hearing me. "And let's be honest--chainsaws are just not scary anymore! Every haunted house in the history of the universe has had a cheap jump scare with a chainsaw at some point. It's like clockwork!"

 

"Well how about this?"

 

We both turned to look at Tasha who was holding up a large, tan box.

 

My eyes grew wide as I spotted the image of two pairs of hands and large letters spelling out O-U-I-J-A. "Tash?"

 

"Where did you get that?" Cassie asked, her voice sharing just about the same amount of nerves as mine.

 

"I found it at the bookstore the other day. Look how old the box is! It's got to be from the 60s or 70s!" Her eyes were wide with excitement as she opened the box and poured the contents out on the floor.

 

"I don't think this is a good idea," I whispered. For some reason, I wasn't thrilled with the idea that my friend had brought a Ouija board into my house. I'd seen enough paranormal investigation shows to know that they were nothing but trouble.

 

"Oh come on!" She rolled her eyes at me as Cassie sat down beside her, unfolding the board. "Where's the Liz I know who's up for anything?"

 

I looked down at the board, covered in numbers and letters, a sun and a moon, and the words YES, NO, and GOODBYE. Something in me whispered to run away but my curiosity wanted to know just what the Ouija board was all about. Part of me thought it was just a trick... but another part of me knew it was all too real.

 

"And besides--don't you want to talk to your dad?"

 

I glared down at her, hating her for mentioning my dad. It had been six months since he had passed away in a car accident. The thought had crossed my mind so many times--calling out to him, trying to make a connection. So many times I started an EVP session alone in my room only to stop before I could say anything, afraid I wouldn't hear him.

 

The possibility of making contact with my dad was just enough to convince me to sit down beside Tasha as she placed the planchette in the middle of the board.  

 

Without a word, the three of us placed the tips of our fingers on the plastic planchette and waited.

 

Tasha took in a deep breath before calling out in a loud voice, "Is there anybody here with us?"

 

A moment passed just long enough to convince me that nothing would happen when suddenly I felt the planchette twitch beneath my fingers.

 

"Stop that," I hissed at Tasha.

 

Her mouth had fallen open as the planchette began to slowly and gracefully circle the board. "I'm not doing anything!"

 

"You're making it move." I had no desire to deal with her theatrics today, "Stop it."

 

"That's not me!"

 

"Guys!" Cassie shushed us both. We followed her gaze to where the planchette had come to rest.

 

YES.

 

"Oh my god." I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I do not want to be here right now."

 

"Relax. You're fine." Tasha rolled her eyes at me.

 

"Isn't this what we wanted?" Cassie pointed out, trying to be a bit kinder than Tasha.

 

"Is it you, Mr. Christy?"

 

We watched in silence as our fingers floated over to NO.

 

I didn't think it was possible, but my heart broke just a bit more. I wanted to toss the board across the room and be done with all of this but my thoughts were interrupted by Tasha's next question:

 

"Are you a ghost?"

 

Our fingers moved altogether in a wide circle before landing back again on NO.

 

 My stomach dropped. Not a ghost?

 

"I wonder if they don't know they're dead?" Tasha exclaimed. She was a bit too excited for my taste. It was as if she didn't even realize how hard it was for me to sit here, knowing that we weren't talking to my dad. "Are you dead?" She turned her eyes down to the board.

 

NO.

 

The questions went on and on as my palms grew sweaty and my head began to pound from the stress of the answers to the questions.

 

YES.

YES.

23

VERMONT.

NO.

GIRL.

NOT HUMAN.

YES.

 

Finally, Tasha asked, "What is your name?"

 

I softly read the letters out loud as the planchette floated across the board, "B... E... L... I... A... L..."

 

"Belial?" Tasha furrowed her brow and shrugged her shoulders. "What kind of name is that?"

 

"I don't know." I shook my head. "It's not English." It was a weird name... and there was something about it that made my skin crawl.

 

"How many people are in the room?" Cassie tried to ask a question, her confidence rising.

 

Around and around it floated... 

 

4

 

"Four?" Cassie shook her head. She looked across the board at me in confusion. "There must be some mistake..." 

 

As her voice trailed off and her eyes moved to look over my head, I could feel something there--standing behind me. I don't know how and I don't know what it was but all the hairs on my neck stood up on end. There was a weight to my shoulders. And I swear to you, I felt someone or something breathing on my hair.

 

Tasha must have seen it too because her courage vanished in the blink of an eye. "Okay, thank you very much. Goodbye," she almost screamed as she pushed the planchette away from us and kicked the board with her foot. In an instant, whatever was standing behind me was gone--it's absence was painfully obvious as I fell back onto the floor, panting.

 

"What the hell was that?" Cassie cried out, tears in her eyes.

 

I continued to lay on the floor. It felt as though any and all strength I could have had within me had been sucked out of me; I was too weak to lift my head up to look at my friends. I was cold and my hands were shaking. I laid on the carpet for awhile, I think... I don't really remember. When I finally moved to sit back up, I looked over at Tasha who was on her phone, her face pale and eyes wide.

 

"What is it, Tash?"

 

She remained silent for a moment--it seemed as though she was absorbing something that her mind could not comprehend.

 

"Tash?" Cassie shook her shoulder gently.

 

"Tasha!" I shouted, throwing a pillow at her to snap her out of whatever trance her phone had placed on her.

 

She blinked her eyes and looked up at us. "Huh?"

 

"What is it?" I pointed to her phone.

 

She drew in a shaking breath and when she spoke, her voice trembled. "I just looked up what Belial was."

 

The silence we waited in was almost enough to drive me crazy.

 

"And?" I demanded to know what it was that had stood behind me.

 

She blinked and tears fell from her eyes. The confident, brave, and slightly obnoxious girl I had known almost my entire life had just been destroyed by whatever that word meant. Burying her face in her hands, she screamed, "It's the devil!"

 

The two of us just sat back in stunned silence and watched our friend descend into a wave of tears and hysteria.

 

The devil.

 

Satan.

 

Lucifer.

 

He had so many names and yet I had never heard Belial until that day. I felt as though I was in a daze--a bizarre dream that I just couldn't get out of no matter how hard I told myself it was nothing more than a dream.

 

We've only told a few people of what we did that night and almost all of them have laughed at us and told us that it wasn't true--Ouija boards are just a spooky game you play around Halloween to try and scare your friends.

 

Even now, Cassie is convinced that either Tash or I played a trick on her. She's convinced herself that she didn't see anything standing behind me... We haven't talked in a few years now.

 

Tasha believes. She was destroyed that night--shaken to her very core. She started going to church twice a week. I think that's the only place she feels safe.

 

And as for me... I haven't been able to get over what happened that night. I can still feel the jolt of electricity coursing through my body, making my hair stand on end. I can still feel that immense weight and the feeling of someone's breath on my hair. I can't forget that or tell myself it didn't happen because it did. Because he was here, in my bedroom, standing right behind me. And in some ways, I don't think he'll ever leave.

http://identifyed-khaos.deviantart.com/art/Project-365-Day-46-204540630

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Today's fantastic writing prompt was "_____ was here." Oh the possibilities were endless! My mind instantly filled in the blank with "he was here" and I immediately started thinking of creepy ways to make this happen.

 

Now I think that Ouija boards are a lot like communism: as an idea, it works, but in practice maybe not so much. Now I know many people are against the idea of "talking to the dead." Psychics, EVPs (electronic voice phenomena), and Ouija boards are all seen as ways of talking to the dead and many people see that as evil. I've always been a little spooked out by the idea of trying to make a connection with the dead... until Jed died. Now, I talk to the dead all the time. I talk to Jed all throughout my day, I write him letters, and I keep my relationship going with him. Is a sister talking to her little brother evil? It's just something to ponder, I guess...

 

And it makes you start to think, what would someone do to be able to talk to a loved one again? Would you go to a medium? Would you write letters like I do? Would you dare play with a Ouija board? All in the hopes of reaching out to your loved one... just to see if they are okay and missing you just as much as you are missing them.

 

Now I've never been brave enough (or stupid enough?) to play with a Ouija board and I can tell you now: I never will. They creep me out. Every paranormal show I watch says the same thing:

 

STAY AWAY FROM OUIJA BOARDS!!

 

So many different people have said that these boards act as a doorway from world to world and sometimes things come through that we don't understand and can't control...

 

Of course, the science end of things says that this is all just a bunch of hocus pocus... but isn't life a bit more fun with some magic and mystery?

 

a.r.w.