I awoke to the sound of sirens going by my house. An ambulance I guessed. I checked my phone for any new messages but wasn’t surprised to find nothing new. Ever since the incident I didn’t have any friends who wanted to talk to me, they all thought I was some sort of psychopath.

I walked into the kitchen to grab some breakfast. I opened a small granola bar as I didn’t feel like putting effort into getting anything else. I sat down at the dining table and waited for my dad to get out of bed. My father always took me out to just have fun on sundays.

I heard a groan upstairs, my father must have woken up. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs but when I looked around the corner I saw no one. Confused, I walked upstairs to my father’s room and peered through the door. My father was still in bed, asleep. I must have just been imagining things.

I was just imagining things right? I was startled when I heard a loud crash from the living room. I jumped and began to look around the corner of the stairs. After a few seconds I went to my father’s room and told him I had heard a large crash. My father had grabbed his lucky baseball bat and slid on his slippers before he went downstairs. He checked all around the house but no signs of an intruder showed.

“What the hell?” I mumbled under my breath. After me and my father settled back down, I ran upstairs to my room and opened my closet door, I looked in only to notice the dybbuk box had been missing. Shit!

Did my father find it? My father’s a very religious man so when it comes to anything paranormal he would have yelled at me. My father never said anything though, if he had found it, wouldn’t he be furious?

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Maybe he hasn't found it. Maybe I had just misplaced it. If I had misplaced it though, where would I have put it? I don’t even remember taking it out of the closet?

I had looked everywhere! Annoyed, I checked my closet one last time and poof there it was. What the hell! I opened the box and took out the ouija board. After giving it a long hard stare I had an idea.

I set up a circle of candles around me and sat in the middle with the ouija board, the dirty old planchette, and the weird pentagram thing. I put two of my fingers on the planchette and moved it in a circular motion three times.

“I call you zozo, I call asking what you wish for me.” I had only said it as a joke when the planchette started moving. First it went to s. After a few seconds paused it moved on to o, then u. Squinting my eyes in fear I saw as it met its last letter, l. I spelled it out in my head, S.O.U.L. Shit!

In fear, I began to try and stop the seance. However, when I was standing up I accidentally knocked over some of the candles. The candles caught fire to the pentagram, my curtains, and a pillow I had on the floor nearby.

“Fuck!” I yelled as I tried to find something to put out the fire. When I tried to put out the fire, it was too late as my room was already filled to the brim with smoke. I ran to tell my dad about the fire. The second he saw me he said “Quick, get out of the house I already called the fire station!”

Outside my house, I sat crying as I watched my home burn down. My dad put a hand on my shoulder lightly and said “We’ll just find another house in the area okay?”. As my father took his hand off my shoulder, I saw as our house collapsed in front of me. All of this because I got scared and knocked over some candles!

As people walked by, I saw them taking pictures of the house, then me. Why the fuck would they take a picture of me? Then I saw it.

I opened my phone to a bunch of shit saying “Johnson’s murderer’s house burns down mysteriously, what secrets was she holding?”. I threw my phone on the ground and ran away as fast as I could.

Everyone hated me, and they didn’t even have the truth about what happened that day.