3:07 a.m ☠ malik

05

Please

. . . "Zayn! Wake up!" I screamed from the doorway. I glanced over at the Ouija Board, which was less than a feet away from me. It was just mockingly situated there, as if it were ridiculing me in a spooky sort of sense.

His dark figure was revealed from the corridor, and he sprinted toward me. "What the hell are you doing up at three in the morning?" he shrieked, panting. "You gave me a heart attack."

"The feeling is mutual, with the exception of you giving me the heart attack!" I almost sarcastically cried. He frowned in confusion, but once I pointed to the sinister device that laid on the floor, he understood, and bewilderment no longer lingered on his face. "That's the board I was talking about," I stated, still pointing at it. "I heard knocking when we were in bed and it guided me to this."

"I'm sorry," was all he could manage to say. His chocolate brown eyes stared intently at the Ouija Board.

"Do you believe me?" I inquired. What if he's beginning to think that I'm a crazy, delusional lunatic? What if I really am crazy and that something's beginning to be wrong with me because of the passing away of Brian?

Zayn sighed, still not answering me. He doesn't believe me, and it hurts.

"I can't deny the possibility," he whispered. "It's happening too fast, Fawn. I mean, I am a believer of God, so I believe in the afterlife. I know you hate it when I talk about religion, but, I love you more than anything, and I care about you. I want you to be safe."

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Zayn, at first thought it was just my imagination. You know how I feel about . . . God and that stuff. But, look, it's right there. Right there, and we cannot deny the possibility that maybe something is haunting me . . . and I know it's not because of Brian."

"So . . . what are we gonna do?" Zayn asked, indicating what we were going to do with the box. "We should throw it away."

"We should," I uttered, replaying the events of the knocking and pounding that agonized my head.

He stepped out into the cold, bitter night and bent down to retrieve the board. I peered at the forest trees that lingered in the background, shivering as I watched him pace down the masonry pathway. As he lifted the hood of the garbage can, our agreement for throwing the board away became completely and utterly one-sided.

"Wait!" I called out, reaching my hand out as an instinct. "Don't throw it away."

He is standing there, just staring at me in confusion, his hand that held the Ouija Board in mid-air.

I scampered to him, catching my breath a bit once I reached him.

"Did you just tell me not to throw it away?" He queried.

"Yes," I sighed. "I did. Look, I know that I may be going way too far with this, but . . . what if we got to contact Brian?" I asked without thinking. One would have to not think in order to ask such a question.

"What? No! That's a horrible idea, Fawn," he frowned, lifting the garbage lid high in the air.

I grabbed his arm, his eyes widening as he looked at me in annoyance.

"Please," I implored, squeezing his wrist, his eyes burning into mine. "It's my only hope," tears almost swelled up in my eyes . . . I have never felt such desperation in my entire life before.

"Fine," his scowl was still imprinted onto his face. He closed the lid, then eyed me curiously. "Would't you have to have some religious sense in order to think that you can contact a ghost?"