I was driving at the time but didn’t have a car of my own. I was allowed to use my grandmother’s car for quick trips to the local convenience store which was about three miles away. I wasn’t sure if Greg had graduated or had quit school, but I had never seen him at the school that I attended. I was turning back onto our road from a trip to the store, when I noticed Greg jogging towards my car, waving his arms in the air. I pulled off on the side of the road, and looked around to be sure he was signaling me, and rolled down my window. “You live in the third house down, don’t you?” he asked. “Yes”, I managed to say with my voice cracking, “I live at 198 with my grandparents.” He mentioned that he was interested in hanging out, listening to some music and maybe playing some games. I was receptive to the idea, and we exchanged telephone numbers.
I was surprised when he called a few days later. My grandmother had already approved the visit, and said she would spend the afternoon watching television in the living room. We could use the den which had a record player and television. He was bringing games and music, and I had snacks and drinks. I thought it was going to be a fantastic afternoon. Greg had walked to my house and rang the door bell that was at the den door. I opened the door, welcomed him in without noticing anything that he had tucked under his arm. He walked in and placed his stack of belongings on the table. “I have this,” he announced holding up an album cover for me to see. It was the most popular album at the time. “I like them,” I replied, and that was the truth, but my next statement would be a lie. He showed me a few games he had with him, then he picked up a box, pointed the box cover in my direction and asked, “Hey, have you ever seen one of these before?” He smiled. “I can’t believe this,” I thought, but my mouth said, “No, what is it?” I was staring straight at a spirit board.
No one forced me to lie. Greg didn’t force me to play the game. I again reaffirmed my decision that I just had a nightmare the last time I messed with one, and there was no way that I was going to give my crush any reason to think I was weird. I’d even managed to box myself in to where I certainly couldn’t say anything about my unbelievable story because I’d denied even knowing anything about Greg’s game.
What I didn’t know at the time was while I was lying to this boy, I was about to invite the same type of demons that had attacked me in my friend’s bedroom a few years ago, back for another visit and this time it would be a worse attack than the first.
I allowed Greg to go through his whole presentation. He introduced the box to me and said that it was a fun game that was used to talk to ghosts. He began unpacking the box, showing me the familiar smooth wooden board. There were the letters, numbers and the words yes and no. He removed the small plastic disc with the circular see-through window and short legs on felt tips. I tried to appear interested as he explained the object of the game. He placed the plastic piece on the wooden board and instructed me to place my fingertips lightly on the very edge of the disc. He did the same on the opposite side of the plastic piece and instructed me to ask a question. He said that a person asks a question and spirits use the plastic disc to answer the question. I’d already decided that I would not move the disc myself. There wouldn’t be any questions answered by me. Making up an excuse, I replied, “I don’t know what to ask, you ask the first question.” Looking up into the air he calmly asked, “Is someone here with us?” Soon the disc began to move in a circular motion, floating smoothly to the word ‘yes’ printed on one corner of the board. I was so nervous, I think I almost giggled at the results, believing that Greg was moving the disc a little quicker than it should have moved. We spent the rest of the afternoon asking questions and receiving replies. Greg was enthralled with asking spirits questions. As Greg prepared to leave, we realized we hadn’t listened to a single song from any record. We discussed that we would save those for another day and Greg left.
From the moment that Greg left, I began to have the feeling that he wasn’t as fabulous as I had originally thought. I don’t know what may have happened to make me start feeling this way, but my opinion of Greg was that it actually didn‘t matter if I ever saw him again.
The rest of the evening was the same as most others. We ate dinner, and watched whatever shows my grandmother preferred on television. I took a shower, and I readied myself for bed. My grandparents went to bed before I did and I watched one more show before crawling under the covers.
Everything seemed normal at first. I was lying in my bed with my cat, Ginger on the foot of the bed. The lamp was turned on, and I picked up a book that I had been reading. I couldn’t have been reading more than a few minutes when I began to feel sick to my stomach. I closed the book, laid it on the nightstand and closed my eyes, hoping the nausea would pass. Suddenly, the voices I had heard several years ago returned. “Don’t open your eyes,” they hissed. I knew I had to prepare myself for another attack. I rolled over on my stomach, shoved my face into my pillow and clenched my blanket with my fist. “Don’t look at your feet,” they screamed and I obeyed. I was terrified to see what was at the foot of my bed. I could feel myself slowly being dragged off of the bed. I felt as if I were paralyzed, which did not matter at this moment since I never considered trying to fight against my demonic attackers. I could feel myself dragging across the floor and slowly I began to move up the wall toward the ceiling. I felt myself land on the ceiling with a thud. The wind in the room blew at hurricane force as the demons cursed, laughed and taunted me. Still heeding their warnings not to look at my feet, I somehow managed to open my eyes this time. I found myself in complete darkness staring straight down on myself still lying in my bed. I was horrified, my head was spinning, and nothing was making sense. Everything in the view below me remained the same. The lamp was on, Ginger was curled up on the foot of the bed in her normal resting spot, and I was lying on my stomach. I could even see the cover of the book that I had been reading, and I was easily able to read the title. The room was still, and the winds only seemed to be bombarding me on the ceiling. It seemed the room was divided into two different halves and the world below that I was seeing knew nothing about the torture that was being thrust upon me above. I began to scream for help, but it seemed as if no words were coming out of my mouth. I stretched my arm down towards myself, trying to wake myself from the nightmare that I knew I must be having, but I was unable to reach myself. It seemed as if the harder I tried to reach, the further away my body was from me. The demons held my ankles tightly, laughing at my terror, but I managed to drag myself a few inches on the ceiling and tried desperately to grab at Ginger. I tried to struggle to get myself to my knees, and I began stretching my hand toward my cat. I felt that I was getting close when she slightly raised her head and halfway opened her eyes. “She knows I’m here!” I thought to myself. The idea brought some relief, but just as quickly as she had raised her head, she rested it on her front paws and closed her eyes again. I wondered if she had felt me reach out toward her. There was too much that I could see with my eyes wide open that a dreaming mind cannot. I could see my desk in the corner. I could see the sliding door to my closet was standing slightly open. I could see the baby blue bedspread that covered my full sized bed. It was too much to be a dream.
The demons who were tormenting me either didn’t care or didn’t know that I was trying to reach Ginger. They kept chanting the same messages over and over. “Don’t look at your feet. Don’t look at us. You’ll die if you look at us.” They would call me terrible names and laugh. I decided that I would try to reach my bedroom door and call to my grandparents for help. I began trying to claw my way across the ceiling, but I knew that I was not going to be able to make it out of the room. Whatever had the hold on me was much stronger than I. I then clenched my eyes shut and asked God to have mercy on me. Although the winds remained, the voices stopped and I slowly began sliding toward the wall. I gently glided toward the bed and felt myself float into the position in which I had been lying on the bed.
Suddenly, I opened my eyes, and I was lying in my bed. I looked down toward the foot of the bed. I had never been so happy to see Ginger in my life. I sat up in bed and scooped her up in my arms.
I opened the drawer to my nightstand and grabbed my wrist watch. It had