We Do Exist

You think it’s a game. Don’t you?


Damn, I lost my sister to what you think is just a game!


Ten years ago, when I was 11 or so, she thought of goofing around with the ouija board. I had always been on the fence regarding whether spirits existed, but she was sure they didn’t. And to make me believe the same, she brought home an ouija board from I-don’t-know-where.


On having set the board up, when she asked, “Is there anyone around who wants to talk to us,” we got no response. The pointer didn’t move! And after 15 minutes of trying to connect with the invisible, creepy beings and failing at it, she laughed and explained how spirits and their existence was a mere myth.


“Both the concept and the believers of spirits are foolish beyond measure,” she said and precisely then, “Ouch!” she screamed.


Her arm had received three scratches, not bleeding, but bright red as if fresh.


She accused me of doing it to her, but why would I? And how could I with pruned nails?


Even after I repeatedly told her that it wasn’t me, she kept calling me a liar.


“Who did it then? Spirits? Huh! Spirits are shitty creatures that exist only in books. They DO NOT exist in real, OKAY?” she snapped at me and shut the door on my face, throwing me out of her room.


Next morning, I went straight towards her room to explain her the solemnity of the situation.


The room was locked. Still locked.


I called her out a gazillion times, to no avail. My heart thumped faster with every call I made to which she didn’t respond.


“Daddy!” At last, I bawled, hoping to seek help.


Exactly in that moment, the temperature around me dropped and the door creaked open. But, scary as hell as it could be, she wasn’t the one who opened it, for my eyes saw her hanging from the ceiling fan.


“Stuti! Stuti? Stuti!?” I could utter nothing except her name frantically in a loop.


And then came the screeching sound… Exactly from behind me.


It took me every bit of courage to turn around, and GOSH! What I saw, made me cry my eyes out.


The ouija board was swimming in the air with the pointer moving wildly, and then slowly, perhaps so I could comprehend.


The pointer moved from ‘W’ to ‘E’ to ‘D’…


The board communicated.


And the next thing I remember is that I was lying on the hospital bed with a head injury.


Till date, no body has ever asked me about what happened that day. My sister blabbers gibberish all day long for she has gone soft in her head.


Yes, I saw her hanging, and she seemed dead. I don’t know what happened thereafter. I am always too scared to discuss what I saw. And I hardly enter her room. Nobody really does, except for the nurse that’s been assigned to keep a check on her.


Ten years. Ten years have flown by, and we haven’t laughed together. We haven’t fought together. We haven’t played together. And that makes me sad. Utterly sad!


You still think it’s a game? That ouija board is a toy?


It isn’t. It never was!


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