top of page

The Board

May 2003

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?

00:00 / 01:04
bottom of page