The Doorknob

The Board

I cannot believe I'm standing here.

Deciding to forego sleep last night, I'd spent most of the evening looking up any possible explanations for...I didn't even want to think it, but paranormal activity. I mostly got hoax articles and sites promising to exorcise troubled spirits from the building, but I wasn't that desperate, and I still didn't really, truly believe that I was dealing with something supernatural.

(I left the music on, though, just in case.)

After hours of browsing to no avail, I'd come to the conclusion that, if this were a haunting from a regular old horror movie, I needed to treat it like one. So I changed my search tactics and managed to find an occult specialty shop nearby - well, sort of nearby. It was about a 25 minute walk, and I'd originally wanted to get a cab, but the air was brisk and cool this morning.

I'd also filled out my application - complete with over-the-top bullshit lines that painted me as an excellent potential employee - and dropped it off at the coffee shop on my way. While there, I'd purchased another caramel macchiato and a muffin to-go, and used them to fuel my lethargic brain as I made my way to the strange store. I had the general direction in mind, but passed the extremely creepy alleyway that housed the entrance four times before I finally got out my phone to pull it up on the map.

And here I am now, standing in front of a black entrance that, honestly, puts my wardrobe to shame. I suppose I should go in, it can't possibly be worse than waiting in the alley to get mugged.

I push through the dark velvet curtains hanging from the open doorway and pause for a moment to let my eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting. Even the alley, shielded from almost any sunlight, is brighter than this shop. I haven't moved from the entrance, head on a swivel just trying to take in the myriad of oddities surrounding me, when my eyes land on an animal skull not ten centimetres from my nose.

"Oh sh-" I start, backing into a low table next to the entrance, and I spin to catch anything that might be falling. Fortunately, it's just a basket with a bunch of business cards tossed in, and I cautiously step away and further into the shop. I hear a tinkling of beads, and look toward the counter as an older woman exits from a back room.

"Anything I can help you with, dearie?" I'm almost startled by the voice, which sounds more like a kindly old grandmother serving tea than a woman who'd be working in an occult shop, but I suppose I'm not in any position to judge. I glance around, hoping I'll just spot what I'm looking for, but to no avail - my eyes are drawn from one grotesque or intriguing object to the next, and I can't focus on anything.

"Uhh...yes?" I notice my voice has lilted up at the end, and I decide the best way to confront this is to be more decisive. "Yes, yes I am," I continue, feigning a confidence and comfort that my surroundings did not instill in me. "I need a Ouija board. I don't suppose you have any?" I try to keep the question casual, in the hopes of avoiding an interrogation, but I'm not let off easy.

"Ah, a Ouija board? And what might a fine young man like you be needing such a thing for?" She leans on the counter, and I feel compelled to walk toward her. When I'm standing across the glass-topped display case - not just a counter, I realize - she reaches below and her small hand returns with a rather unassuming box. It could house a board game. But isn't that what a Ouija board is, just a board game? It's not real, I tell myself, eyeing the box.

The woman doesn't hand it over, though I'd rather just pay and be done, but keeps her grip on the box and locks her eyes on me expectantly. At this point, my social awkwardness kicks in, and I recall she'd just asked me a question - how do I even answer this? That I think my flat's haunted, and I just want to know for sure? How weird- I stop the train of thought at that word. Weird. It's not like she's never heard anything weird before. My own sarcasm is enough to prompt my reply.