“Come on Carrie, don’t be such a chicken!” Annabelle taunted, her diatribes only teasing yet demeaning, at least at our middle school vernacular. Yeah, so my situation is that I let her and a couple of my other friends talk me into ‘testing my bravery.’ Let me just say it, I’m not into this and I tried many remonstrations. Now here we are, in front of the most haunted asylum in town, where I’ll possibly die from fright. Not that I mind. It’s much more preferable than doing my homework or, my favorite acronym, Hours Of My Energy Wasted On Random Knowledge. Anyways, back to my little piece of reality.

“Why do I have to do this? This is friggin’ ridiculous!” I grumbled, crossing my arms to fight off the cold.

Annabelle responded, “Because you literally do not live on the wild side enough!”

“Now that’s not true! I went a little crazy last week and used a different cleaner.” My friends groaned at my cheesy joke. Nope, they wouldn’t budge. This SUCKS. Jax, my best friend, patted me on the shoulder and smiled gently.

“Carrie, it’s just for until midnight. If you’re not out a few minutes after, then I’ll come in guns blazing. Unless I hear a scary noise. Then you’re on your own.” I grinned. It’s comforting to know that someone has my back. Kinda. I sighed and resigned myself to the comfort that I at least get some respect after this.

“Okay, fine. Give me all that I need and let’s just get this over with.” One of the other girls, Annabelle’s sister maybe, handed me a flashlight, a notebook with a pen and, of all things, an Ouija board. I raised my eyebrow.

“This wasn’t part of the agreement. You know those things freak me out,” I said

“That’s because you watch one too many horror movies,” Annabelle retorted.

“It’s helpful because this is the exact thing we should NOT do.” Annabelle rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Save your pugnacious remarks later. Now it’s already 10:00, so I suggest you get moving!” With a few shoves and incisive remarks, I was inside the asylum. Hooray for my fails in life. God, I swear this is stupid. It doesn’t even help that there’s no sound, so this just makes my night even worse. I sighed and turned on my flashlight, so the dark would be less eerie. I’d like to tell you about this asylum, but frankly, I’ve disinterred nothing. I knew it was a recondite asylum, but I thought there would be at least a little bit of information about it. Sorry for my abstruse use of vocabulary. I have a habit of using big words when I’m nervous, especially in my writings.

I walked around the asylum for a while, my ears open for any sounds and my eyes open to the many playing shadows. It wasn’t long before I felt a chilling suspicion that I was being watched. It continued to follow my every step like a little child does when you have something he wants. Except this feeling was more, how should I put this, sinister? And I’m freaked out. Okay, pull yourself together. You got this.

“Get out…..” Something whispered in the dark. I froze in my place, flashlight, notebook, and this stupid board gripped tightly in my hand. My brain is literally screaming at me to turn and high-tail it out of here, but my pride is telling me it was only the wind. With my heart pounding in my throat and my stiff feet moving, I walked into an empty cell. The walls were covered with weird writing and graffiti. It’s amazing how people are able to abrogate the law by making creepy places even creepier. I saw an old bed and made my way to it, setting my stuff down upon it. When I checked the time, I was shocked to find that it was already 11:30 p.m. when I checked my wristwatch. Gee, time flies when you’re almost peeing down your leg. Right, onto the task at hand. I sat on the bed gently, being mindful of the springs poking out of it. I set up the ouija board and placed my hands on the planchette, relaxing as best as I could. I closed my eyes.

Slowly I asked, “Is there anyone here with me?” At first, I felt nothing, but suddenly I felt a heavy weight on my hands as the planchette move. I opened one eye and saw that it had moved to yes. Okay, so far so good. I remembered the notebook and opened it. There were questions prepared for me to ask it. I’m guessing I have to write down the answers I receive. First Question.

“What is your name?” It started moving slowly but surely. It spelled out M-A-R-T-H-A. I wrote it down, although I felt as if something was trying to keep my hands in place. I proceeded to ask several questions before something suddenly fell to the floor. I almost jumped out of my skin and grabbed the flashlight, aiming it frantically into the dark abyss of the room. A chair had fallen over, but nothing was there. That’s strange….. Turning slowly back to the board, I looked at my wristwatch, it was 11:48. Christ, time seems to be slowing down for me. I started to say goodbye when Martha started moving the planchette, this time faster, as if scared. I couldn’t make out what she was saying at first. Then my eyes widened as I figured out what exactly she was trying to tell me:

Run! He’s coming!

She kept spelling it over and over until she suddenly stopped. It’s like she annulled having even talked to me. What’s going on? Then I heard it. An awful, truculent growling sound followed by wretched scratching. I immediately said goodbye and grabbed everything. Screw this dare, I’m not taking my chances with this anymore. I started running, but something, or someone, slammed into me and my back hit the wall. Everything went flying, but I didn’t notice them. What I did notice was a tall, black figure with glowing red eyes. It felt as though it was staring into my very soul, piercing me with a fresh wave of still terror. I wanted to move, but I was frozen to the spot. This can’t be happening to me! I tried to scream as it started to approach and all that came out was faint whimpering. Every minute oozed passed as it kept coming forward, its gaze never wavering. By the time it was midnight, my heart literally froze as it descended on me…. Like it stopped beating.

It has been five months since I’ve been to the asylum. My friends found me the next morning with scratches and bruises covering me. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it, especially since ripping that Carrie-girl’s soul was delightful. Oh, you really think she survived that? Such a fool you are then.