Ouija Board

I kept on trembling. I couldn't take it anymore! This was freaking me out. Why, why, WHY did I have to go into the basement? And WHY did I have to look into the box? And WHY DID I HAVE TO TAKE OUT THE BOARD?! I thought it was a game. I was wrong. I contacted a spirit. The wrong spirit. It is all my fault. Jessica is cursed, and it is all my fault.

It started like this--two days ago, I was looking in the basement for some antique I can sell on eBay. Jessica, my little 6 year old sister, has always wanted a porclain doll of her own. It was either I find a porclain doll or find some money to buy one. I chose the second choice. Anyways, while I was down in the basement, I dug up this board with letters. "Cool!" I thought, "Jessi would rather have a board game than a stupid old doll." I yanked out the board from the rest of the debris and carried it upstairs. "JESSICA! I have a surprise for you." I set the board down. "WHAT, MARIE?!" My little sister, still sleepy from her mid-day nap, scuttled downstairs, her little Disney Princesses slippers squeaking. "I have a board game for you, Jess. Isn't it pretty?" I kneeled down, and started brushing off the dust from the board. "Its creepy, Marie. Me wanted a poor colin doll!" "I'll get you one! I promise. Come on, let's play." "Nuh uh!" Jessica shook her head. "It creepy!" "Come on, it's just old!" I patted the floor across from me. "Sit." Jessica scooted over to the board, and stared at it. Then, she plopped down. "I'll shut the curtains so no one can look through and tell me cheats, okay?" "Okay." I dimmed the lights, and shut the blinds, pulling to curtains over them. I went back and sat down. "I think we are supposed to spell stuff with this thingy." I held up a little glass triangle. I put it down over H, and Jessica put her hands onto mine. We spelled out H-E-L-L-O. Jessica giggled. Then we spelled out B-O-O-G-E-R-S. I was astonished when Jessica kept playing. We didn't finish typing Lolly pops when the piece started moving itself. "M-M-Marie, what's going onnnn?" "I honestly don't know, Jessica!" The piece spelled out N-O-T-A-G-A-M-E. I grabbed ahold of the piece. W-H-O-A-R-E-Y-O-U I spelled out. D-I-E. "Marie, what does dye meannnn?" My eyes were wide open. CRASH! The glass table next to us shattered into pieces. Jessica shrieked. "MARIEEEEE!!!!!" I grabbed her and held her close. I stood up and looked around. Nothing. Not a baseball, not a prank. Nothing. I sat her down next to me, and holding hands, we spelled out L-E-A-V-E-U-S-A-L-O-N-E. L-E-A-V-E it responded. Jessica, being her idiotic self, furiously spelled out Y-O-U. I pulled her hands away, and the piece spelled H-A-U-N-T. "Oh no," I thought. I stared at the board. Next thing I knew Jessica shrieked again. "MARIE SOMETHING SCRATCHED MY BACK!" I jumped in back of her and lifted her pink pajama shirt, revealing red marks streaming down her back. Ever since that day, my little Jessica has been tortured. And ever since that day she has never been the same happy-go-lucky self again.