by D.J. Kozlowski
"It's not real!"
The Ouija board rested between them; six hands still resting on the planchette.
"It can't be real--there's no such thing as ghosts or spirits."
The other two girls sat silently, staring at Kelly as she spoke.
"We're the ones controlling it. Like, we must be. I mean, it's our fingers on the thingy, and I admit, I've been pushing it a bit. Like when we asked the spirit who it likes, I sort of guided the thingy to B-L-A-I-N-E, because I like Blaine. But you guys were pushing it, too."
Kelly couldn't believe how na´ve these girls were. She lifted the board, forcing the girls' hands to fall to their laps.
"See, it's just wood. There's nothing special about it. Just wood, with a sticker on the top. And the sticker has the letters and numbers and 'yes' and 'no,' but we are in control. I think usually nobody admits to controlling it, so it's all spooky. But, look at this thing!" She held up the planchette, "It's plastic! Even the glass part is plastic!"
Light from the candles reflected on the planchette's faux-glass dome through which the letters on the board were typically viewed. The air smelled heavily of apple: one of the candles was fat, red, and included apple oil. In the dimly lit, apple-scented room, neither of the other girls spoke.