Of Nightmares and Spirits, Fiona Estelle Hamilton [the reading strategies book .TXT] 📗

him. One of the clowns told him it would do no good for him to scream. The only ones that would hear him were the dead. Aaron continued to scream as the clowns clawed at his flesh. They were tearing hunks of it off, using their nails to do so. The pain was excruciating to the point where Aaron could no longer fight them back. The only thing he could hear was the laughter of the clowns, his own screams, and his skin tearing like Velcro.

I told you he didn’t go peacefully. These hallucinations turned into something horrific didn’t they? I know what you’re asking yourselves though: ‘If Aaron Richards wasn’t killed by clowns, what did him in?’ That my friends will be answered soon enough. Keep reading and find out what really happened!

The doctors and nurses didn’t know whether to call in the police or not. They decided they would, just to be on the safe side. Aaron Richards had died around four fifty in the morning, due to cardiac arrest and a few other injuries. Around four that morning, Aaron had asked a nurse to give him another sedative. When she refused, he proceeded to ask her a series of questions. Once he did that, Aaron, for whatever reason, ran out of his room. Nurses chased after him, but he wouldn’t stop. He continued to run until he reached the stairwell. There had been a power outage earlier that day, so Aaron didn’t know where he was headed. He wound up in the morgue and didn’t even know it.

The nurses reached him soon after but he put up a fight. It was at that point that for whatever reason, Aaron began clawing at himself, to the point where skin was coming off. It was a ghastly sight to see. A nurse that had been working at that hospital for twenty years, who had seen just about everything, ended up vomiting due to how grotesque it was. He even managed to take a hunk of skin off of his own face.

A doctor came to the conclusion that Aaron was just insane and that he had suffered a psychotic breakdown. Aaron’s friends and co-workers disagreed. They knew that Aaron’s phobia had something to do with his grim demise.

Eventually, Mary told the others about the gas and the possible side effects it had given her friend. Only they knew the truth. The rest just thought he went mad. Others thought that his extreme fear killed him.

Aaron’s son, Jonathan, was devastated upon finding out. The circus troupe that Aaron and his co-workers went to was investigated. The clown that sprayed Aaron with the gas was nowhere to be found.

I guess Mr. Richards should have stayed away from the circus. I hope this little story satisfied you all! I’ll have a fresh one for you next time! Oh, and if you see a clown, I’d get away from that thing as quickly as possible! Until next time fear seekers…

 

 

 

A Cautionary Tale

 

The following narrative was found buried under rubble from a house fire from about two weeks ago. Names, places, and dates have been changed to protect the innocent and the deceased.

 

April 21, 2013

 

What I am about to do is horrific, but it is the only way I can protect myself from the evil force that wants my soul. If I can get rid of myself, then the evil that wants me will vanish. I am sorry. I am sorry for participating in the séance. Most of all, I am sorry for the grief I will cause my family… My sister, my mother, I am sorry.

 

October 30, 2012

 

I am excited that I get to go to this party. I have waited for weeks for it, and now patience has paid off. My friend, Daniel, was hosting a Halloween party a day early, and it was to be a large event. I have heard rumors that at least one-hundred and fifty-one people are expected to show up. Some people I know, but others I do not. When I arrive at Daniel’s house, some guests are already present. I notice a few are in costume. I was going to dress up, but I did not have time to do so. Daniel and I make pleasant conversation while sipping on a drink.

“May I speak with you privately for a moment?” He asks. I nod then he leads us into his spare room.

Daniel rummages through a box or two, and then pulls out something I have never seen before. It was a board with all twenty-six letters of the alphabet, along with numbers zero through nine below them. There is a “Yes” and a “No” between the words “Ouija”. Lastly, I saw “Goodbye” below the numbers. I found this to be odd. What was this object and why did Daniel have it?

“Daniel, what is that?” I asked.

Daniel smiled and shook his head, “You’ve obviously never seen or heard of an Ouija board have you?” He replied, “It’s supposedly used to communicate with spirits.”

I felt skeptical; I had never heard of such a thing. I do believe in spirits and paranormal occurrences, but I never did I hear of a board that could be used to communicate with the spirit world.

“What do you intend to do with it?” I asked.

Daniel gave me a mischievous grin. “Once the guests leave, you and I are going to hold a séance and we’re going to see if this thing actually works!”

I frowned. I did not think that it was a good idea. Suppose the Ouija board really could communicate with the spirit world. What if we disturbed a restless spirit? What if something bad could come of using this object? I voiced my thoughts to Daniel, but he laughed it off and told me I was being childish. It was not until eleven o’clock p.m. that the rest of his guests left. We conducted our make-shift séance at midnight.

 

 

Daniel wanted the séance to be at midnight due to the fact that it would be officially Halloween by then. We turned off all of the lights, unplugged every electrical device in his house, lit three candles, (one for myself, one for Daniel, and one for the spirit) burned incense, placed the Ouija board on the table surrounded by candles, and then sat down.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to this?” I asked in quiet voice.

“You need to lighten up!” Daniel told me. “It’s nothing but a cheap parlor trick! It’s not going to work! Anyway, it’s Halloween now. We should do this before one a.m. comes.” I sighed and reluctantly agreed.

We placed our hands on the planchette, took a deep breath, and then began. Daniel called out to the spirits, saying any friendly sprit was welcome to come speak to us and so on.

“What if an evil spirit comes tricking us into thinking it’s a nice one?” I protested. Daniel rolled his eyes. Suddenly, I felt the planchette move. “Daniel!” I cried out, angry that he was trying to scare me. “That wasn’t me!” He replied hastily. I shook my head and huffed in irritation. I then noticed where the planchette had moved. It had moved to “Hello.” Daniel gave me an excited glance. “It’s saying hello to us!” he said with chuckle.

“Daniel, stop trying to fool me.” I replied glaring at him.

“I’m not!” Daniel retorted, his eyes shining with glee.

“Well, are you going to ask the ‘spirit’ something else?” I asked impatiently. I was fully convinced Daniel was just doing this, in an attempt to frighten me.

Daniel nodded and continued asking questions. According to this “spirit,” It was a young girl that ended up dying in a house fire, sometime in the 1920s. She was only ten years old at the time.

“How sad!” I remarked after a moment. I mustered up enough courage to ask my first (and only) question: “What is your name?”

At first, there was no movement. Daniel and I exchanged confused looks. “I wonder why she won’t answer…” Daniel said in a whisper.

I gave a shrug. “Maybe we made her sad,” I suggested.

It was then the planchette began to move once more, spelling out the name, Stella. My heart ached for this poor girl. She was only ten years old when she died.

“Daniel, we should try to help her,” I said after a moment of silence, “We need to help her cross over, that way she can be reunited with her mother.” Daniel and I felt the planchette move again. This time, it moved to “No.”

“No?” Daniel asked, “You don’t want to be reunited with your mother?” A chill ran through me. Why didn’t Stella want to be brought back to her mother? The planchette moved around, spelling “murder” and “angry.” I thought perhaps Stella had possibly witnessed the murder of her mother before her house was set ablaze. Maybe that’s how her house was set on fire. Stella could have seen her mother killed, and then her mother’s murderer set the house on fire, to ensure Stella’s silence. Could this be why Stella could not move on? Did the death of both her and her mother cause her to become so angry that she could not go to where she rightfully belonged?

With that in mind, I asked, “Was your mother murdered? Is that why you are angry?” The planchette moved quicker than it had been, to “no.” Daniel looked at me, frightened.

“Then why did—“ Daniel couldn’t finish his sentence, as the planchette moved around to spell the phrase: “Mama killed me.” I couldn’t take it anymore at this point. This went bad, very quickly. I told “Stella” goodbye, took the Ouija board outside, and then burned it.

Daniel was angry, to say the least, but he got over it once we went back in the house. I tried to turn the lights back on, but the switch would not activate the lights. I tried plugging in the lamps and turning them on, but they, too, would not come on. Daniel even tried changing the light bulbs, but they still would not turn on. We were left in total darkness.

About twenty minutes later, a knock came at the door. When Daniel opened it, nobody was there. We came to the conclusion that it was probably just a prank. I went home around two a.m. because a few religious objects started falling off the walls, and plates were flying out of the cabinets at Daniel and me. I became frightened and wanted to get out of there, as quickly as possible.

 

January 15, 2013

 

It has been three months since the Ouija board incident. I am still somewhat shaken from it. For the past week, I have been having terrible nightmares, along with having night terrors. Strangely enough, I wake up at the same time every time I have a nightmare or night terror; it is always three twenty a.m. Perhaps I should see a doctor. Maybe she or he will give me something to stop the nightmares. They are getting increasingly worse as the days go on.

The one I had last night in particular was rather gruesome. I dreamt that I had found the charred remains of a child in my basement. Although the eyes sockets were empty, I still felt the skeleton boring its eyeless stare into my own eyes. What frightened me the most was from what I could make out from the skeletal remains, the skull appeared to be giving a horrifically malicious grin. It scared me so badly, I woke up thinking that I had to dig up my basement, just to make sure there was nothing there.

I debated calling Daniel to tell him what happened, but I decided against it. He most likely would have told me it was merely a nightmare and that I need to let the Ouija board incident go. I think I will stay awake tonight to ensure the nightmares stop. I know it is unhealthy but I feel I have no other option. I am dreaming horrible things