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Chapter One

I was never completely religious, not to say I was an atheist, but I did not believe that everything in the bible was entirely true. As a small child my mother and father died. Well it was a bit more tragic than that, so let me tell you that story before I divulge myself into anything that would leave you frazzled. When I was nine years old, my mother was severely depressed and my father an alcoholic. He was never abusive but was distant, which caused my mother's depression. His name was Author, and he was once a gentle man. In 2006 his father passed away. What started as a few beers ended in their death. He came home one night in 2008 at near two in the morning, and began to scream at my mother. I was frightened, but inquisitive enough to come out of my room and stand at the landing of the second story stair case. His yelling grew louder, and eventually quieter, even at nine I knew was not a good thing. As the silence began to grow eerie I stepped down two stairs, just enough to see into the dining room. My father had my mother by her throat pressed against the wall. I watched as he slowly took the life from her, the entire time with a grin on his face. I shook, I shook so violently from fear that I peed all over myself. When she finally stopped kicking, he began to panic, crying and sobbing to God that he was sorry. After he was done screaming, he pulled a gun from his waistband. He prayed to the Lord, and asked that someone would take good care of me. Then, my father put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I watched as pieces of skull, brain, cartilage, and blood sprayed against the mirror and wall behind him. I ran screaming and sobbing hysterically to my neighbor's, who had been a good friend of my mother. She met me at the door because the gun shot had woken her. I remember, so well, that night. I remember the medics getting their and declaring them both dead, a caseworker for the state coming to talk to me, I remember it all very clearly to this day. Days after that night were a blur, constant therapy sessions, and relocation from home to home. I was upset, and angry for a long time. Nearing adolescence I began to calm, but still blamed it on myself.

After five years, I came to term that they were gone and weren't coming back. I lived everyday like a normal teenager, but deep inside I was full of sorrow. I had only wanted to tell my mother one thing: I'm sorry. I felt that if I had been downstairs that none of this would have happened, that it would be me gone instead of the two people I loved the most. Yes, my father was an alcoholic and a murderer but in some strange way I still loved him, I mourned for them both at the funeral, and I would always miss them both. When I was fifteen I discovered Watt-pad, and on my sixteenth birthday I came across a paranormal story. It was short, about a girl whose boyfriend who had died in a car crash and came back from the Other Side to tell her that he loved her and that he was sorry. This book gave me inspiration to speak to my dead parents. I used Google to find out information on contacting the dead, but none of it seemed real to me. Finally I found what I was looking for, an Ouija board. I had a summer job where I mowed lawns and done landscaping that brought a good share of money, which I always saved. I spent twenty dollars on this board, hoping that this was the solution to my one problem.

About a month later, it came in. It was on a sunny Thursday, and I had just gotten off of the bus. I didn't send it to my house fearful that my foster family would think I was a 'devil worshiper', but to an abandoned house right down the road from our trailer. I ran to the mailbox and back, I hoped that no one had seen me. Every day I had went to check the mail box, and on the thirty-fourth day it was there. To say I was excited would be an understatement. Of course I hadn't even thought that the game might have rules, with my excitement I forgot that this could be dangerous. That night when my foster parents were asleep and I did what I had been hoping to do for a long, long time. I sat on the small twin bed, and pulled the board out, it was set right in front of me. I stared at it for a while, but I did not pray, I did not surround it in salt. I put my hand lightly on the the pointer, it had a small hole in the middle to see what letter it was pointing to. The board had the alphabet in two rows, yes and no at the top, and goodbye at the bottom. There were also four symbols in the corners but I didn't know what they meant.