It’s so common, isn’t it?

Hearing people talk about paranormal activity. It would seem almost foolish to not believe it by now, right? Well that never stopped me.

But when you’re on the receiving end, it’s hard to ignore.

When lights don’t just flicker—they turn on and off, the entire flip switching, completely all on their own, it does become difficult to chop it up to faulty wiring. Or when I watch doors open wide and then shut, it’s hard to claim it’s just the breeze.

Or when the TV erupts on in the dead silence and I watch channels flip, or even worse, see a specific channel number be manually inputted; that’s when I decide I can’t ignore it anymore. Something was going on here.

I tried to bring myself to leave and go to the library, or maybe the church? Who knows. Anyway, I couldn’t seem to do it. Whatever is here is sapping my energy. The doors feel incredibly heavy—in fact, everything does. The moment I make it to the doorway or—on a particularly determined day—the front yard, I find myself so exhausted that I have to go back inside and rest.

The phone line never works; it doesn’t even beep, it’s like I’m not interacting with it at all.

I was starting to give up hope that I’d ever get out of here, much less deal with whatever entity or energy was in my home.

That is, until it spoke to me.

I was just sitting in bed, trying to focus on some reading, when I heard it. There were no definitive words, just a calling. A beckoning.

I wasn’t sure how I knew where to go, but I found myself anxiously making my way down the hall to the back room. Every step seemed too incredibly loud, that subtle creak I hadn’t really paid much notice to before sounded blaring. It almost drowned out the incessant pounding of my own heart in my ears. Just almost.

When I stepped into the room, of all things, there was a Ouija Board.

‘Great.’ I thought bitterly. ‘I’m actually in a horror movie now...’

Seeing as there was no other option at this point, I begrudgingly walked over and sat in front of it.

I waited for the token to move, but instead, I heard a voice. So faint, like a whisper from another room. I had to strain to hear it.

“Can you hear me?”

I shifted uncomfortably, tentatively putting my hand on the board and moving the token over the word “yes”.

“Why are you here? How long have you been dead?”

Me? Dead?

I dragged the token across the letters, spelling “alive”.

Nothing happened for awhile. And then:

“You don’t know you’re dead?”

Ridiculous. Or so I thought, until I considered the possibility...

I can’t leave, I can’t make calls, everything is so difficult to do, even now I’m the one moving the token in response...

It couldn’t be.

Could it?