It was late June or early July when I purchased a Ouija
board. I can remember like it was yesterday. It was summer
vacation and I was just fifteen years old. I had a job
babysitting my best friend's little cousins. I had always
been interested in the supernatural.
My first experience
occurred at the the tender age of seven. I had premonitions
and dreams of things before they actually happened. This
fascination led me into several different topics. One of
those topics being: Spirit Communication. During this time
I stumbled onto the word Ouija. I had heard about Ouija
boards before and was determined to use it. I wanted to
record my thoughts and observations of the use of the
board. I raised the money, bought it from a toy store (yes
a toy store) and had gone straight home to use it. I used
it several times alone and sometimes with family. When I
first used it, everything was okay. But after a while I
started to experience strange things.
I couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was around me at all
times. Sleep would not come and when it finally did, I
would wake up a few hours later, drained of energy. I felt
irritated and disoriented. I tried to write my feelings in
my journal, but every time I picked up a pen, I would find
my hand moving by itself. I was forced to read the (almost)
incomprehensible scribble that was on the paper.
Amazed and a little scared, I had shown some friends. They couldn't
believe what they were seeing. I dared the thing (whatever
it was) to prove itself. And that night as the cold rain
poured in, I felt on edge. I dared it again. This time the
dare was to prevent me from opening the bathroom door. I
approached the door in fear. I turned the knob, but it
wouldn't open. I continued to turn the knob and press my
full body weight against the door. It wouldn't budge. I
felt as if I was going crazy.
That Sunday I went to church
and prayed for forgiveness. The minister put oil on my
forhead in the shape of a cross and I could feel a million
tingles from my forehead to my toes. I felt renewed. After
this incident it took me months to write in my journal and
longer to create poems and stories. Even to this day I have
trouble writing. My dreams of becoming a writer has left me
now. And I do believe with all of my heart that I was
touched by something evil. I have paid for it dearly. I no
longer have the talent to be a writer. Sometimes I wonder,
who or what is to blame for this evaporation of talent. Me
or the Ouija?
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