One, Two, Three. I've been waiting for you. Why can't you see? Five, Four, Three, Two, One. Good luck running from my loaded gun.
It feels like the world has gone insane. My mother doesn't speak anymore, my father can no longer look any of us in the eye, and my dear sweet brother has gotten worse. I'm afraid he's not even my brother anymore. Whatever it is loves recking havoc. It won't stop until there's nothing left.
I know I shouldn't do it but I've got the board hidden under my pillow on my bed. I haven't touched it besides moving it from one place to another. Doesn't mean I haven't thought about it.
Kind of like right now, I'm laying in bed and as usual I can't sleep. Now would be a good time to use it. I don't really know the rules of these things but it seems eerie. Sometimes I wonder why it was left in the house. It's so strange but not unusual. Everything about this place is strange.
I sit up and pull the board out from where my head was just laying. Then I move toward the door, slide, and lock it closed behind me. Let's do this.
I sit cross legged on my bed with the board in front of me. I place my hands on the triangle piece and begin making a single circle. I had friends back where we used to live that played with a board like this once, it was at a party.
I chant softly under my breathe, "Spirits near be human or devil. I call to thee. I mean no trouble. I only wish to ask the dead a question about the life once lived. Spirits near me I call to you. Answer me be it one or two." The piece grows hot underneath my fingers; just like the key when I placed it near the attic door. It starts going crazy, moving rapidly around in misdirection. I guess there's more people trapped here than I thought.
I hear a crash and immediately toss the board back under my pillow. This can't be good. It gets louder this time. Almost like whoever it is has gotten closer. Then I hear a loud bang on my bedroom door. It almost comes off of its hinges. Inwardly I scream in terror but on the outside I scramble to climb under my covers and turn to face the opposite direction; hopefully whoever it is doesn't get the chance to see my face.
There's another knock, then a crash as my bedroom door is blown off it's hinges. Even from this distance, I can smell death. I know it's him. He walks into my bedroom and stops a few feet away from me. I can feel his eyes burning holes into the back of my head. I have to force myself to appear like I'm sleeping. Honestly, it's a lot harder than it looks.
To my surprise he believes it and I hear retreating footsteps as he leaves my room. Good, he's gone but the lingering stench of death still remains. I don't turn around to see if he's still watching me and I can't risk getting the board out again. There's nothing left for me to do but lay here and stare at the wall.
Somehow after a long time, I end up falling into a fitful nightmarish dream.
