Sarah Laker

12 - Ouija Board

"8356172?"

"Sarah... Are you busy?"

"No. What's up, Duncan?"

"I... I had something weird happen to me today."

"Oh! Are you okay? Do you want me to come over?"

"No, no, don't do that. Please."

"Alright, so, spill the beans then. What's so weird that you have to tell me about it at ten o'clock on a Sunday night? Don't you realise that I'm in my pyjamas, ready for a chapter of my Mulder and Scully book right now? I thought I told you this is how single white females roll out here in the country?"

"I don't really know where to begin to be honest."

"You could try by telling me what shit you've been smoking after dinner to make you hallucinate again."

"No, can't say that I did this time, Loopy."

"You're starting to worry me. Just tell me from the beginning."

"Okay. It's like this. I... I mean the room. It changed. I saw this boy. Well. Maybe not saw, but felt this boy..."

"Duncan, let me stop you there. That's just wrong."

"No, wait! I'm not fucking joking, Sarah. There was this boy..."

"Sorry, Duncs, carry on."

"Okay, no problem. There was this boy, and he was running to see if his dad was coming home from the war -"

"What? What are you going on about? Where? When?"

"In my apartment, but it wasn't my apartment. I guess it was the house - as it used to be, and this red head kid looked at me and, quite frankly, scared the shit out of me 'cause he said my name in this really really odd deep voice."

"Okay, first, breathe. Take a minute. Just concentrate on your breathing. In. Out. Okay? Think carefully about what you're saying. Did you really see all this? Or did it just appear in your mind after you passed out on the sofa again?"

"Sarah, okay, I get it. No, I'm not hallucinating. I haven't been smoking weed. I didn't fall asleep or have a wet dream on the sofa and I'm not making this shit up just to scare the bejesus out of you!"

"Alright, cranky pants. You're the one who made the booty call."

"Okay, sorry. Yes, I know, it sounds ridiculous when I try to explain it to you. It's just that, this boy, he seemed so happy. That can't be right, right? I mean, if you knew your dad was dead, you'd be sad right?"

"Well, yes? I'm guessing that would be my first response."

"Exactly. So why did this little git smile at me?"

"When did he smile at you?"

"After he told me that his daddy wasn't coming home from the war."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Shit."

"I don't know what to say, Duncs."

"Me either."

"Would you like me to come round tonight?"

"No. I can manage."

"Are you sure?"

"Loops, do you think there's something I can do to make it better?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think the boy wants me to do something? You know. To stop him from coming again?"