by E K Bennett
I practically thrust the paper at Miranda, making her read it. "I need to know what these mean."
"Yes, yes, girl, nine, water, Lotty," she reads aloud. She gasps after Lotty. "Oh..."
"Yeah."
"Well, first I think we asked her if, you know, there was anyone with us. And then they said yes so we asked if they were dead? Like, don't ask me why. It just felt right, we were just trying to freak each other out. And we asked if it was a man or woman, and our hands went to the letters to spell out girl. And I just thought it was my friends being idiots, right? I mean, for all we know, it was."
"I don't know about that, Miranda..." Josh says. "But keep going."
"Well, we asked her how old she was when she died. And she said she was nine. Which is totally fucked up. And then we wanted to know how she died and all we got was 'water'."
Suddenly, I know what I was forgetting in the hospital. My chest compresses and I cough, remembering the dream I had. Or was it a dream? I feel like I was there.
"She drowned. Well, she was drowned.." I fish through my memory for more details. "I remember a boot...on my chest. And a knife. There was a knife."
"What are you talking about?" Miranda asks me.
"A dream...or at least I think it was a dream..." No one says anything so I continue. "In the hospital. Right after I was knocked unconscious, I had this dream where Lotty was at this lake, and she tried to stab some girl. These kids kept making fun of her for something or another, and then she tried to kill one of them. So they killed her..."
Josh is gazing into space, then Miranda asks, "But how do you know that was the ghost that I supposedly talked to on Halloween?"
I point to the paper. "Because her name was Lotty. And," I unfold the sketch and point to the name in the corner of the drawing. "I drew this one day...after seeing her in my mirror. Completely from memory. And I can't do that with anyone but her."
"You guys are freaking me out..." Miranda says.
"But you believe me?"
Miranda nods. Josh looks at the paper. "So you asked for her name and she gave you Lotty? Then what?"
"Then Sam came and yelled at all of us and everyone went home," Miranda says bitterly.
After a while, Josh says, "So you didn't say good bye?"
"Um. No?" Miranda says, squinting her eyes.
"Well, shit."
"What?" Miranda and I say simultaneously.
"When you use a Ouija Board, you're inviting spirits into your circle. But if you don't say goodbye, they don't leave."
20. She's Wrong
"What do you mean, they don't leave?" I ask.
"I know, it sounds ridiculous," Josh starts.
"Hells yeah, it does," Miranda cuts in and I smack her with a pillow.
"Anyway!" says Josh loudly, "It sounds ridiculous, but if you don't say goodbye, you can't dismiss the ghost. I think that's why Lotty's still here. I think she thinks she's been invited to stay."
"Then why does she want to hurt me?" I instinctively run my fingers lightly over my stitches.
"I never said she was exactly a nice guest..." he replies, looking down at the carpet.
"Psh. Guest. Like I could call her that."
There's a silence that seems unending. Eventually Miranda says, "Well, how do we get rid of it?"
After a while, Josh says, "I was thinking we break out the Ouija Board again. You know, make things clear that we don't want her here anymore."
I purse my lips, thinking about what Sam said on Halloween about opening doors. Maybe this was what she meant. "Okay," I say without hesitation. "I'll go call Sam."
I start to stand up from my spot on the carpet when Josh pulls me back down. "I don't think that's a good idea," he says. "I don't want to put any more people in danger."
"Danger? How dangerous could she be?" I sigh.
"Um," Miranda points out, "have you seen the back of your head?"
I raise an eyebrow. "No, actually. My eyes don't reach back that far," I say with thick sarcasm.
"Ha ha. But seriously," Miranda says.
I sigh again. "Fine. But, um, you should leave, too. Maybe stay with Bryan tonight?"
"Lyd, Bryan lives here now. You probably don't remember that he moved in the day of your accident."
I open my mouth to speak, but again I hear the little small giggle, and so does everyone else.
"But," Miranda says quickly, her eyes wide, "I'll get a motel. Or stay with Dad. See you!"
She practically sprints out the door. I've never seen anyone run that fast when they were that pregnant. Before closing the door she says, "I'll have Bryan pick me up at the neighbors. I'm not staying here another minute. Peace out, don't get killed." And she says it with a straight face.
I turn to Josh slowly. "Okay, suddenly this doesn't seem like a good idea..."
Another giggle, from behind the TV now.
"Where's the Ouija Board?"
"Um. Miranda's room, I think..." I mumble.
"Okay. I'll go get it, you stay here. Maybe light some candles?"
"Oh God, Josh. This isn't a horror movie, okay? I've seen Lotty more times during the day than at night. It's not like she burns in the light."
There's a giggle that seems to come from under the couch and I jump up so fast that I'm behind Josh in less than a second.
He laughs, probably to lighten the mood. "Not funny," I scowl, but don't move an inch. "Can we just get the stupid board and get this over with. She's really freaking me out."
"Fine," he agrees. I wonder why he's not terrified, like I am. I mean it's obviously Lotty, right? Who else could have sent that frame flying ten minutes ago?
I follow him into the hall, turning on lights as I go. The darkness makes me feel vulnerable; I've never dealt with Lotty in person this late at night. I don't think I could handle it.
We get into Miranda's pin-straight room, without a thing out of place. This job should be easy, since everything has a place. "The board should be with the rest of the board games," I say, mostly to myself, and go straight to the shelf.
"Is this it?" Josh asks from over by the bed.
I meet him over there, and placed neatly on the bed is a toys-R-us Ouija Board box. My stomach drops.
"Miranda would never have left this here..." I mumble.
Without hesitation, Josh picks it up and we go back to the kitchen, leaving the lights on and setting up the "game" in front of us. I bite my lip and take a deep breath as we both put our hands on the wooden planchette.
Lotty's high-pitched giggle returns, this time it comes from above us. We both look up, but see nothing. My grip on the planchette tightens. The air feels dry, and the bitter silence is more painful than anything I've ever felt. After a few very long moments, my hands start to shake. I meet Josh's eyes, but they're glued to the planchette.
It starts to slowly shift to one side of the board. "Hello," Josh and I both whisper, reading the word aloud.
We stare at each other. "Did you just move the planchette, Lydia?" Josh asks with a quiver in his voice for the first time all night.
I shake my head slowly, unable to even blink.
Something in my head tells me to ask a question. "Um, hi, Lotty," I start quietly. "It's Lydia. This is, um, my friend Josh. We were wondering if you could maybe tell us what you're doing here. Like, not to be rude...or anything like that..."
This time the planchette moves quicker, shifting from letter to letter. "It spells 'Help me'," Josh says softly, kind of confused.
"Help you?" I say. "With what? Why did you hurt my head, Lotty?"
The planchette shakes again, and spells out the words again. But with each letter, more and more repressed memories surge through my brain. The girl on my street getting hit by a car. Telling me that she 'had a plan'. The note that was stolen, and the words written on them. "You have a plan...Lotty, was that you in the street that day?" The planchette shifts to yes. I gasp. More memories clog my train of thought. "Was that you in the window the day my note w
as stolen? Did you take my note? What did it say?"
Instead of an answer to the questions, the lights flicker. I sit straight up and look around cautiously. Josh gasps and I whip around. He's looking at the table beside the board, where the note I haven't seen in ages is placed precariously in front of me. In the blink of an eye. I slowly lean over and look at it. "I'm all alone... Said the girl was doing everything wrong, like her...going to KILL SOMEONE," I read aloud.
"Does she want company?" Josh asks me, and I don't even realize that we've both taken our hands off of the planchette. There's a sliding noise and we gaze at the planchette, moving slowly to the word 'no'. I bite my lip again.
"Holy fuck," Josh whispers.
"Doing something wrong....Kill someone...kill someone..." I say under my breath.
"Oh, God!" I say suddenly. "I knew it! In the dream, those kids that killed Lotty called her a murderer. She tried to kill that other girl named Molly. Lotty was a serial murderer. I felt it, it was like a became her in the dream."
Josh opens his mouth to reply but the planchette moves again, this time to the word 'yes', then quickly slides back to the letters to spell out 'help me'.
"What do you want?" I almost scream. The planchette is shaking violently now, moving from the letter 'L' to 'I' then 'F' and 'E'.
"Life?" I whisper.
The planchette stops moving and an eerie silence fills the room again. Josh and I stay quiet for five minutes, I say, "You're dead."
I wait a couple seconds, then say, "I'm sorry, Lotty. You're dead. You died a hundred years ago, there's nothing we can do." The words are slipping out of my mouth like a script from a movie. And finally I know; this is why Lotty came. She needs help moving on.
"You've got to find the light," I say, louder now. "Just move on. There is no other way to help you."
At that last word, the lights completely black out. I scream and Josh ducks his head. "It's time to leave, Lotty," I say with a shaky voice and lift my hand to feel around for the planchette, so I can say goodbye.
The glass cover on the light above the kitchen table falls to the table and shatters, tearing up my hand. I shriek in pain, but I don't stop looking. "We want to help you, Lotty!" I yell. And then my fingers land on the smooth wood of the planchette. "I found it!" I say to Josh. "Take out your phone, I need to see the board."
The lights flicker above us, but they're brighter than usual. The blue light flashing occasionally from the bulbs has a serious resemblance to lightning. I look at Josh, his face washed out by the bright flashes of light. He nods at the board and I start to move it.
Then I hear the whispers. Those dry, quick whispers that coil around my brain and I have to let go of the planchette to cover my ears, but it does nothing.
"Lydia, are you okay?"
"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, JOSH!" I scream.
He looks taken aback, his mouth forming a wide 'O'. I glare at him and clamp harder onto my ears, shaking my head.
"Stop, stop, STOP!!" I shout and hit my head on the table.
"Hey!" Josh gets up from his chair and grabs my shoulders. My forehead stings, I can feel the warm blood on my face from where the glass is sunken into my skin. "What are you doing?"
I turn to him and spit in his face. "Get the hell out!" I scream. He's making everything worse, I have no control over the situation. The anger from when I was in the hospital is back, only about fifty times worse.
I kick at him and he lets go, so I walk into the kitchen.
"Lydia! Come back, we need to say goodbye! Make her leave! You have to come back and sit." He goes to grab my arm and I punch him in the stomach.
"STOP!" I scream again and continue to the back of the kitchen, next to the stove. The lights flicker blue-white as I grab for the biggest kitchen knife I own.
"NO!" He says, and runs for the Ouija Board. He puts his hand on the planchette and quickly shifts it to 'goodbye'. "Get out, Lotty! We don't want you anymore, okay?"
Lotty's giggle comes again, but this time it comes from me. Josh stares at me with wide eyes and I bend over the kitchen counter, forearm on the cold marble that my mother paid a fortune for, palm up. My right hand clutches on the knife and moves quickly, the anger that pulses through my veins taking control. Breaking the skin and digging two short words into my pale arm. Not too deep, but deep enough. The anger is replaced by pain and hysterics.
Josh realizes what I'm doing--what my hand is doing, what Lotty is doing-- as soon as I'm done. The whispers are inside me, wrapping around my brain and telling me sweet, painful lies. He sprints over and nearly tackles me, pinning me to the fridge and knocking the knife out of my hand. The lights are not flashing. It's dark now, and he can't see.
"You can turn back on now," I tell the lights, giggling and feeling dizzy. And then, to my surprise, the lights turn back on.
"Oh my God," Josh says, lifting up my arm.
I laugh and look from my arm to is hazel eyes, holding his gaze. "Too late," I whisper, reading the words carved into my skin.
My eyes roll back behind my head.
21. She Gets the Wrong Kind of Help
I have a killer headache when I wake up sprawled on the couch. I furrow my brow and look around the living room. I don't even remember falling asleep. In fact, I don't remember much of anything that happened after the lights started flashing.
I know that a lamp fell on my hand during our little séance, and I look down to check out the damage. I sit up and examine my sliced up hand; it stings and aches like crazy but I don't think it'll need stitches. My gaze travels from my right hand to my bloodstained left. My left arm stings like crazy, and it's wrapped up with what looks like a kitchen hand-towel. But I can't tell because it's absolutely soaked with blood.
Josh walks in the room and sits next to me on the couch. He's holding a clean towel and staring at my arm.
"I didn't know you were awake," he starts to explain. "I don't know where you keep your bandages, and I was kind of panicking, and we were in the kitchen so I just grabbed the nearest thing that would soak up all the blood, and I was sure you were dead when your eyes rolled back in your head..."
I just stare at him. He's got to be speaking Chinese or something, because nothing he's saying makes sense to me. "What do you mean?" my voice is weak, something that I've unfortunately become accustomed to lately.
He ignores me. "I called your parents, and they're on their way over. I didn't expect you to be awake, but you are. You should maybe call your dad. I think we should change the bandage-- Erm, the towel-- now. It's pretty soaked."
"Yeah, about that..." I say. "What the hell happened, exactly?"
He looks at me with a blank expression, then it hits him and he realizes I asked him a question. "You really don't remember?" he asks incredulously.
I shake my head and he tells me the story. I chew on my lip, and don't even notice him taking off my "bandage".
"And then I told her to leave and you did this with the knife," he gestures to my arm and my stomach turns.
Etched into my skin are the two words "too late", orange and puffy, still slightly oozing blood.
"Yeah...and then you laughed just like Lotty does, and you told me it was too late. You looked hysterical, laughing and smiling really big. It was really messed up," He says everything so calmly, gently.
"And then I just passed out?"
He nods.
"You seem to be taking this pretty well. You must deal with stuff like this all the time with your family when you volunteer and stuff," I say.
He shakes his head. "Nothing like this." He wraps the clean towel around my arm and sighs. "I can take the blood, the cuts, all that stuff. But watching it happen is a whole different genre, Lydia."
I purse my lips. "But you're taking it well, I guess. Better than Sam would...Oh shit! Have you told Sam?"
He hesitates. "I called her after I called your parents. She's actually here now, but she's in the bathroom. She's furious."
"Crap sticks," I mut
ter.
Josh chuckles and stands up, moving over to the chair. "You should lie down. You lost a shit ton of blood."
I roll my eyes and lean back, but I don't lie down. "Well this sucks. I was sure this would work. I had this feeling, you know? I figured everything I was saying was right, that this was how we would get her out of here. But I guess I just pissed her off."