Ouija boards are the epitome of horror movies, horror games, and the "life" of the party of those who don't believe in ghosts. There's a fair share of households that have the wooden board, scorched delicately with handcrafted letters, numbers and symbols that will help the spirit communicate. The wooden planchette is normally made to be held securely, with smooth, refined edges and a solid crystal in the middle. Sometimes, it's not always glass, but a mixture.

There is no real way to be certain if it works unless you use it, and even if you do know how, there's always one little fatal mistake that will send you to an unhappy time of poltergeists. Maybe even more.

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"Okay, put your hands on the planchette. Just barely, fingertips first!" Five different hands settled on the wooden planchette. A larger fellow grinned and playfully shifted his hand around, knocking the wooden tool about.

"Ron, cut that out! We can't play seriously if you're not serious!" Abigail looked up from her side of the board, her golden nose ring shining in the candles that burned with the smell of berries, and evergreen. As the recipient of her words simply laughed, she punched him weakly in the shoulder before a young boy across from her nervously set the planchette right again. He spoke slowly.

"Um... Is there...anyone there? Can anyone hear us?" His hand was shaking, proven mainly by his pinky that wouldn't stop trembling. I was just on his side, trying to be a supportive friend by patting his back with a free hand just as the planchette began to slowly move.

At first, none of us noticed, but after what I presumed was only a few seconds of silence, the final person spoke up. The fifth person was Evan, a friend of Ron's who was always eager to try new things. He also didn't believe in ghosts, and he was the first to take heed of the shudder of the board.

"Okay, who's moving it? Stop moving, no one move." We didn't move. Or at least, we tried not to. The boy beside me stuttered, but I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol here on the college campus or not.

"Let's... Let's just call it quits, because people k-keep moving the b-board."

Ron snorted. "Nah, it's fine. Let's wait for five minutes. This is much more interesting than waiting in line at the damn dentist's office." Then again, everyone would've agreed to that.

This was the time when the planchette suddenly lurched to the side, landing hard on the "S." Before we could get our bearings, it shifted sharply over to "H" as Abigail looked ready to punch Ron again.

"Stop moving it! I swear to God, if you do that one more time-"

"I'm not moving it, quit being a bitch!" he retorted. I glanced between them and then back down at the board, looking at the letter before being forced to stare as we were forced to lean into the neighbors. Despite my fingers needing leverage and leaning a little weight onto the planchette, it began to simply keep moving, as if unaffected by my lack of balance.

U... T... U... P...

Then it stopped. Like the eye of the storm, all suddenly went silent and I could feel a cold chill sweeping over me. Evan looked pretty shaken up beside me, continuously pinching and biting at his lips before he looked around.

"No one was moving that, right...?"

Ron seemed to be unamused and didn't answer him. "What did it say?"

"Shut up."

The football player looked to Abigail, his brows furrowing angrily. "What the hell, I'm not--"

She honestly looked ready to slam the planchette into his eye socket as her anger rose. "That's what it said you stupid bimbo!" Everyone knew she could've honestly used more foul language for that, but I had guessed she had been too surprised to find the right words.

"I'm just going to put this up, before we fight," I said, collecting the board and the planchette up and looking for the closet to put it away in. I heard them protest but this was when I didn't care. They were causing me a headache. Or at least, I thought it was their yelling.

The reason I'm telling this story is because I'm writing from my hospital bed, with a broken leg, and a concussion. Ever since the incident of the Ouija board, I've never had a normal life since, filled with accidents, and the recent death of my dogs and my mother within two months. I regret playing games that deal with spirits now.

Sometimes I still see the board in the mirror of my hospital bathroom.