“What Happens On Halloween” by Christine Song

by E.V. Jacob on October 24, 2013

Tonight, we’ve got a story from Christine Song, my 90-Day Writing Challenge buddy and good Twitter friend! Follow her at @christineysong–she’s fun to stalk!


Like everything else the Supreme Team did, it started off as a joke. They were tired of the parties hosted by a rotation of their classmates and were itching for something new—something dangerous. They had a grand plan for tonight, but the only problem was they had no idea what that plan was.

It was Julie who suggested the Ouija board first; its rusty golden box was rotting in the basement and her parents would never notice its absence.

“We call upon the spirits of our ancestors to guide us on our paranormal journey!”

Becky raised her hands ceremonially. The candles adding to the mood, flickering in the darkness. The three of them huddled around the cracked board.

“Isn’t this kind of stupid?” Amy whispered to Julie who shrugged in reply. Outside, children’s laughter floated in past the thin walls as they collected candies.

“Amy, shut up!” Becky glared at Amy until she returned her attention to the board. She shivered, observing the shadows as they leisurely devoured every letter.

Satisfied of her control, Becky’s fingers formed the foundation on the pointer. “Spirit, we call on you to join us. Spirit, are you there?”

They held their breath and waited for the pointer to move. It didn’t budge. Someone snickered, but it was too dark to spot the culprit.

“Spirit, are you there?” Her voice was louder, more demanding. The silence from the occult gave her a newfound courage.

The pointer shivered then glided to a single word: YES.

“Who moved it?” Amy, face pale, scooted away from the board. Her best friends exchanged a curt glance.

“Nobody moved it, Amy, don’t ruin the circle.” Julie stretched out a hand to invite Amy back into the circle. After much contemplation, Amy’s trembling hand accepted her invitation. A smirk stretched across Becky’s face.

“What is your name, spirit?”

The pointer moved faster now, pausing momentarily before moving on:






“Shit, Becks, stop playing!” Julie flicked hers and Amy’s hands off the board. She eyed the board cautiously, a strange chill clung to her back.

“I didn’t do anything!”

Amy rocked herself in her seat. “She’s come back to us,” she whispered to nobody in particular.

“Don’t be stupid, Amy. Becks is playing with us.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Becky protested and grabbed the nearest fingers: Amy’s. “We need two people for it to work.”

Amy shook her head. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Shut up, Amy!—”Becky cleared her throat before addressing the board—”Long time no see, Karen.”


“Bored of the afterlife already? Or did you return ‘cause you missed us?”


Becky frowned. The last vestiges of playfulness erased itself from her face. “Then why’d you come back?”


Amy sobbed harder; her entire body shook violently as she tried to suppress her cries. Becky’s nose flared in anger and even Julie scooted in closer to read Karen’s answer.

“We didn’t fucking do anything.”


“Becks is right, Karen. We didn’t do anything.” Julie hugged herself. “You weren’t supposed to be there!”

Amy was caught in a seizure, but her fingers remained eerily still on the pointer. She closed her eyes to shut out the images: the bonfire where they torched their middle school uniforms; the “closed for renovations” sign on the clubhouse… Nothing that day went according to plan.


“I’m sorry, Karen,” Amy choked out the words in-between her tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Karen didn’t reply.

“This is so stupid.” Becky stormed to her closet. “I say we go out. Tommy said his brother can score us drinks.”


Julie shrieked. “Amy, this isn’t funny! Stop moving it.”

“I didn’t.”

“Stop fucking around.” Becky lost her temper and slapped Amy. An angry welt swelled on her petite face and she choked back tears but her fingers remained on the pointer.


Julie turned on Becky. She didn’t disguise the disgust on her face. “Is that true?”

“How did you find out, Amy? Did Tommy tell you?” Becky ignored Julie.

Amy shook her head. “I don’t know anything,” she gasped. “I’m not moving it!”


“Don’t flatter yourself, Karen! He came onto me.” Becky shouted into the air.


“Believe whatever you want, but you’re a whore and we don’t have to talk to you.”

Becky kicked the board out from Amy’s finger—the pointer crashed against the wall and broke into several pieces. The broken pieces broke the chaos and a solemn silence blanketed the group. Outside, the last remnant of a child’s laughter floated in through the window before disappearing as the porch lights joined the night one by one.

“It’s bad mojo to not dismiss the spirit,” Julie failed in her attempt to lighten the mood. It took a couple of minutes for Amy to stop shaking.

“Whatever. What’s she going to do? Stalk me as a fucking ghost? Let’s go, I need a drink.”

Amy stayed rooted to her spot.

“Come on, Amy,” Julie urged her gently. She rose to her feet.

“You sent me to the club house that day. I went because of you.”

Becky froze. “We promised we wouldn’t talk about it.”

“I should have known that Tommy would’ve never sent me that text.”

Julie’s eyes widen in realization.


“It’s nice to see you too, Jules.”

“Amy, stop fucking around.” Becky’s shoulders tensed and a neck vein twitched as she switched her glances between her friends.

“You can’t even recognize your own friend anymore, Bekah?”

Becky started to laugh. “This is some sick joke you cooked up, Amy. I’ve got to admit, I didn’t think you had the balls to pull something like this.”

“She doesn’t, but she was alway the better friend.”

“If you are Karen, go away. Nobody wants you here anymore.”

Karen shook her head. “I’m not leaving. Not anymore.”

Previous post:

Next post: