The Revenge of the Ouija Board Spirit: Part 1
A haunting story of a vengeful spirit who broke the wall between the Living and the Dead
October 30, 2019
If you’ve ever watched “The Exorcist,” “Paranormal Activity” or any horror movie featuring a haunted talking board, then you’re probably familiar with the Ouija board. Oddly, the board, thought to have the ability to summon dead spirits, is listed under “Toys & Games” on Amazon.
So which is it? A family-friendly board game? Or a communication device of the Devil?
I myself have only had one encounter with a real-life Ouija board. And it is safe to say that the board really is a portal to the Afterlife and all of its restless spirits.
It was July 2018. My cousin Derek and I sat with his two friends, Nikki and Harper, under the sweltering New Jersey sun. The limp grass below us wilted under the weight of the Ouija board. It was midday, barely past noon, and none of us believed any spirit could scare us under the open sun.
One by one, we placed two fingers on the planchette – the triangular pointer that allows the spirit to spell out its messages. We eyed each other anxiously as Harper stifled a nervous laugh. Slowly, our eight fingers pushed the planchette around the letters in three large circles to warm up the board. Then, we stopped in the middle.
Derek cleared his throat. “Is there anyone here?”
Silence. Our eyes darted back and forth from the board to our bodies huddled around in a circle.
“I don’t think it’s working,” Harper whispered. At the sound of her words, I felt the planchette jerk forward from under my fingers. Slowly, the pointer moved toward “YES.”
Harper’s eyes widened. Derek and I shared a nervous glance.
“You’re not moving it, are you?” I whispered to them. The three of them, wide-eyed, shook their heads.
“Hello,” Derek said cautiously. “What’s your name?”
We stared at the planchette expectantly. L-U-C, it spelled out. And lastly, more hesitantly, Y.
“Lucy,” Harper breathed.
“What’s your last name, Lucy?” Derek asked.
The planchette shifted, wavering until it drifted to the G.
“Like Hermione,” Harper whispered. Nikki smiled.
“When were you born?” Derek asked.
The planchette carried our fingers to the numbers. I examined each of our fingertips on the wooden pointer, seeing if any had turned white from pushing the pointer. They were all the same shade of pale pink.
1-9-9-8, it spelled. She was around our age.
“When did you die?”
Without hesitation, Lucy spelled out 2-0-1-4. 16 years old–the same age as Derek and me.
“How did you die?” Derek asked. I looked at him, wondering if that was okay to ask.
The sun pounded on our still backs as we waited for a response. We stared at the board, willing it to move. A minute passed, but our fingers still sat motionless. Harper looked up toward the sky, as if Lucy might appear above us from the dead.
Then, the planchette twitched. Timidly, it moved toward the M.
“M?” Harper asked. “Massacre? Mass shooting? Manslaughter?”
“Don’t be so dark,” Derek said. Nikki was silent.
Our fingers moved toward the U, then stopped at the R. M-U-R. My eyes widened. I could only think of one word that began with MUR, and it wasn’t a very serene way of dying.
“Murder?” Harper’s voice quivered. “That’s even worse than what I said.”
Derek exhaled. “What–”
The planchette shifted before Derek could finish. Our fingers followed the pointer as it carried us to the next word.
U-R-N-E-X-T, it spelled. Harper gasped, jolting her fingers off the pointer. I suspected the mood had been disrupted, which upset Lucy. The planchette shook violently on the board. Harper shrieked, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
“Harper, what did you do?” Derek whisper-yelled. “We have to formally end it. We can’t stop until we say good-bye. What did you do?”
Harper’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? What did I do?” Nikki took her fingers off. The planchette was still on the board. I eyed Derek and followed suit, removing my fingers from the cold pointer.
“We have to say good-bye before we take off our fingers,” Derek said, “to close the plane between the two worlds. Now it’s open – who knows what kinds of spirits you’re letting into the living world.” Harper bit her trembling lips.
“Crap,” I said. “You can’t be serious.” Nikki was silent, her fingers clenching loose blades of grass in her palm.
That night, Harper and Nikki slept over with Derek and me. We piled blankets on the floor and huddled together in a single room. That night, the bedroom door slammed shut so violently that Harper shrieked. Nikki laughed, walked toward the open window on the other side and closed it shut.
“It was just the wind,” Nikki said. I looked at Derek nervously. We had kept the window open for the entire summer, and not once had the door slammed shut before.
That night, Derek’s red nightlight on the wall flickered by Harper’s head before losing all of its color. Harper jolted awake, shook Derek and me awake and pointed at the broken nightlight. Derek shrugged, and, within a few seconds, was breathing heavily beneath his covers again.
That night, I dreamed of floating letters, each time spelling out different words. First it was B-L-O-O-D. Then it was K-N-I-F-E. Then B-O-D-Y, C-O-R-P-S-E, and B-O-N-E-S. I woke up shivering despite the summer heat.
Since then, there has been no question about it: the Ouija board really can summon spirits, including the ones you don’t want to summon. A piece of advice? Play with only your most trusted friends. And know what you’re getting into. You don’t want to accidentally let in a vengeful spirit into your life, especially not in the New Jersey summer heat.
Come back next week for the rest of the story and the next installment of The Revenge of the Ouija Board Spirit series.