Death is Black and White

"What do you mean, they don't leave?" I ask.

"I know, it sounds ridiculous," Josh starts.

"Hells yeah, it does," Miranda cuts in and I smack her with a pillow.

"Anyway!" says Josh loudly, "It sounds ridiculous, but if you don't say goodbye, you can't dismiss the ghost. I think that's why Lotty's still here. I think she thinks she's been invited to stay."

"Then why does she want to hurt me?" I instinctively run my fingers lightly over my stitches.

"I never said she was exactly a nice guest..." he replies, looking down at the carpet.

"Psh. Guest. Like I could call her that."

There's a silence that seems unending. Eventually Miranda says, "Well, how do we get rid of it?"

After a while, Josh says, "I was thinking we break out the Ouija Board again. You know, make things clear that we don't want her here anymore."

I purse my lips, thinking about what Sam said on Halloween about opening doors. Maybe this was what she meant. "Okay," I say without hesitation. "I'll go call Sam."

I start to stand up from my spot on the carpet when Josh pulls me back down. "I don't think that's a good idea," he says. "I don't want to put any more people in danger."

"Danger? How dangerous could she be?" I sigh.

"Um," Miranda points out, "have you seen the back of your head?"

I raise an eyebrow. "No, actually. My eyes don't reach back that far," I say with thick sarcasm.

"Ha ha. But seriously," Miranda says.

I sigh again. "Fine. But, um, you should leave, too. Maybe stay with Bryan tonight?"

"Lyd, Bryan lives here now. You probably don't remember that he moved in the day of your accident."

I open my mouth to speak, but again I hear the little small giggle, and so does everyone else.

"But," Miranda says quickly, her eyes wide, "I'll get a motel. Or stay with Dad. See you!"

She practically sprints out the door. I've never seen anyone run that fast when they were that pregnant. Before closing the door she says, "I'll have Bryan pick me up at the neighbors. I'm not staying here another minute. Peace out, don't get killed." And she says it with a straight face.

I turn to Josh slowly. "Okay, suddenly this doesn't seem like a good idea..."

Another giggle, from behind the TV now.

"Where's the Ouija Board?"

"Um. Miranda's room, I think..." I mumble.

"Okay. I'll go get it, you stay here. Maybe light some candles?"

"Oh God, Josh. This isn't a horror movie, okay? I've seen Lotty more times during the day than at night. It's not like she burns in the light."

There's a giggle that seems to come from under the couch and I jump up so fast that I'm behind Josh in less than a second.

He laughs, probably to lighten the mood. "Not funny," I scowl, but don't move an inch. "Can we just get the stupid board and get this over with. She's really freaking me out."

"Fine," he agrees. I wonder why he's not terrified, like I am. I mean it's obviously Lotty, right? Who else could have sent that frame flying ten minutes ago?

I follow him into the hall, turning on lights as I go. The darkness makes me feel vulnerable; I've never dealt with Lotty in person this late at night. I don't think I could handle it.

We get into Miranda's pin-straight room, without a thing out of place. This job should be easy, since everything has a place. "The board should be with the rest of the board games," I say, mostly to myself, and go straight to the shelf.

"Is this it?" Josh asks from over by the bed.

I meet him over there, and placed neatly on the bed is a toys-R-us Ouija Board box. My stomach drops.

"Miranda would never have left this here..." I mumble.

Without hesitation, Josh picks it up and we go back to the kitchen, leaving the lights on and setting up the "game" in front of us. I bite my lip and take a deep breath as we both put our hands on the wooden planchette.

Lotty's high-pitched giggle returns, this time it comes from above us. We both look up, but see nothing. My grip on the planchette tightens. The air feels dry, and the bitter silence is more painful than anything I've ever felt. After a few very long moments, my hands start to shake. I meet Josh's eyes, but they're glued to the planchette.

It starts to slowly shift to one side of the board. "Hello," Josh and I both whisper, reading the word aloud.

We stare at each other. "Did you just move the planchette, Lydia?" Josh asks with a quiver in his voice for the first time all night.

I shake my head slowly, unable to even blink.

Something in my head tells me to ask a question. "Um, hi, Lotty," I start quietly. "It's Lydia. This is, um, my friend Josh. We were wondering if you could maybe tell us what you're doing here. Like, not to be rude...or anything like that..."

This time the planchette moves quicker, shifting from letter to letter. "It spells 'Help me'," Josh says softly, kind of confused.

"Help you?" I say. "With what? Why did you hurt my head, Lotty?"

The planchette shakes again, and spells out the words again. But with each letter, more and more repressed memories surge through my brain. The girl on my street getting hit by a car. Telling me that she 'had a plan'. The note that was stolen, and the words written on them. "You have a plan...Lotty, was that you in the street that day?" The planchette shifts to yes. I gasp. More memories clog my train of thought. "Was that you in the window the day my note was stolen? Did you take my note? What did it say?"

Instead of an answer to the questions, the lights flicker. I sit straight up and look around cautiously. Josh gasps and I whip around. He's looking at the table beside the board, where the note I haven't seen in ages is placed precariously in front of me. In the blink of an eye. I slowly lean over and look at it. "I'm all alone... Said the girl was doing everything wrong, like her...going to KILL SOMEONE," I read aloud.

"Does she want company?" Josh asks me, and I don't even realize that we've both taken our hands off of the planchette. There's a sliding noise and we gaze at the planchette, moving slowly to the word 'no'. I bite my lip again.

"Holy fuck," Josh whispers.

"Doing something wrong....Kill someone...kill someone..." I say under my breath.

"Oh, God!" I say suddenly. "I knew it! In the dream, those kids that killed Lotty called her a murderer. She tried to kill that other girl named Molly. Lotty was a serial murderer. I felt it, it was like a became her in the dream."

Josh opens his mouth to reply but the planchette moves again, this time to the word 'yes', then quickly slides back to the letters to spell out 'help me'.

"What do you want?" I almost scream. The planchette is shaking violently now, moving from the letter 'L' to 'I' then 'F' and 'E'.

"Life?" I whisper.

The planchette stops moving and an eerie silence fills the room again. Josh and I stay quiet for five minutes, I say, "You're dead."

I wait a couple seconds, then say, "I'm sorry, Lotty. You're dead. You died a hundred years ago, there's nothing we can do." The words are slipping out of my mouth like a script from a movie. And finally I know; this is why Lotty came. She needs help moving on.

"You've got to find the light," I say, louder now. "Just move on. There is no other way to help you."

At that last word, the lights completely black out. I scream and Josh ducks his head. "It's time to leave, Lotty," I say with a shaky voice and lift my hand to feel around for the planchette, so I can say goodbye.

The glass cover on the light above the kitchen table falls to the table and shatters, tearing up my hand. I shriek in pain, but I don't stop looking. "We want to help you, Lotty!" I yell. And then my fingers land on the smooth wood of the planchette. "I found it!" I say to Josh. "Take out your phone, I need to see the board."

The lights flicker above us, but they're brighter than usual. The blue light flashing occasionally from the bulbs has a serious resemblance to lightning. I look at Josh, his face washed out by the bright flashes of light. He nods at the board and I start to move it.

Then I hear the whispers. Those dry, quick whispers that coil around my brain and I have to let go of the planchette to cover my ears, but it does nothing.

"Lydia, are you okay?"

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, JOSH!" I scream.

He looks taken aback, his mouth forming a wide 'O'. I glare at him and clamp harder onto my ears, shaking my head.

"Stop, stop, STOP!!" I shout and hit my head on the table.

"Hey!" Josh gets up from his chair and grabs my shoulders. My forehead stings, I can feel the warm blood on my face from where the glass is sunken into my skin. "What are you doing?"

I turn to him and spit in his face. "Get the hell out!" I scream. He's making everything worse, I have no control over the situation. The anger from when I was in the hospital is back, only about fifty times worse.

I kick at him and he lets go, so I walk into the kitchen.

"Lydia! Come back, we need to say goodbye! Make her leave! You have to come back and sit." He goes to grab my arm and I punch him in the stomach.

"STOP!" I scream again and continue to the back of the kitchen, next to the stove. The lights flicker blue-white as I grab for the biggest kitchen knife I own.

"NO!" He says, and runs for the Ouija Board. He puts his hand on the planchette and quickly shifts it to 'goodbye'. "Get out, Lotty! We don't want you anymore, okay?"

Lotty's giggle comes again, but this time it comes from me. Josh stares at me with wide eyes and I bend over the kitchen counter, forearm on the cold marble that my mother paid a fortune for, palm up. My right hand clutches on the knife and moves quickly, the anger that pulses through my veins taking control. Breaking the skin and digging two short words into my pale arm. Not too deep, but deep enough. The anger is replaced by pain and hysterics.

Josh realizes what I'm doing--what my hand is doing, what Lotty is doing-- as soon as I'm done. The whispers are inside me, wrapping around my brain and telling me sweet, painful lies. He sprints over and nearly tackles me, pinning me to the fridge and knocking the knife out of my hand. The lights are not flashing. It's dark now, and he can't see.

"You can turn back on now," I tell the lights, giggling and feeling dizzy. And then, to my surprise, the lights turn back on.

"Oh my God," Josh says, lifting up my arm.

I laugh and look from my arm to is hazel eyes, holding his gaze. "Too late," I whisper, reading the words carved into my skin.

My eyes roll back behind my head.