Her name is Penny. (Part 1)

At least, that's what my Ouija board let's me call her.

It was my birthday. As The Boy gleefully handed me my gift that morning, I might have even seen a little mischief in his eyes. I hate surprises but this was during the height of COVID and I was still working at the hospital, so I didn’t mind.

He brings it over and lo, a Ouija board!¹ I was ecstatic! Beaming from the very middle of myself. It was such a thoughtful gift and he had hid it so well.

That’s how we met, Penny and I. That’s what I call the Ouija board, Penny — even though I know now that this isn’t her real name. She just lets me call her that. She likes the nickname of sorts with which I christened her.

And I am so glad she does.

And I am so glad we have found each other.

The beginning

That morning as I was gingerly opening the box, I could already feel the shift in energy in the room. We were like two live wires finding each other. I, giddy with the prospect of acquiring another tool to put in my spiritual toolbox. And she? Well. She was, as I would later find out more clearly, adjusting to her new home. Change is hard. I get it.

Intuitively, I continued moving slowly. I unwrapped all the pieces, gently taking stock of everything the Hasbro gods had bestowed upon me. And then I spent the rest of my birthday admiring her. Not using the board. Not initiating any ritual of any kind. Nope. I just sent little sighs of joy and thoughts of fondness in her general direction. I placed her aside, but within my line of sight, for the remainder of the day.

Until the evening time.

A friend of The Boy’s came over to the house later on that day. A male friend to be specific. And upon seeing the board, he just couldn’t resist. He boisterously sat down in front of it, picked up on the planchette and started moving it around the board.

“Alright! Are we gonna play??”

I froze. Suddenly, I felt an intense urge to put her away. I kept staring at his hands on the planchette. Thinking about it now, I can only pray the look on my face wasn’t too expressive. I didn’t want to be rude but I also really didn’t want to use the board. Which probably would’ve sounded strange to him because it was my birthday present after all.

Holding back the urge as much as I could muster, “Okay, but I haven’t read up on how to use it properly. I mean, I think there needs to be a ceremony of some kind. A process. This is serious stuff! We can’t just wing it!”

He looked at me, kind of impressed but also kind of disappointed. And disappointed was what I was going for, so I felt pretty confident that he wouldn’t bring up using the board again that night.

He didn’t, thank goodness.

— But that’s when it started. I didn’t get to relish that sense of restored peace for very long.

Whatever shift I felt upon meeting her that morning was nothing compared to what happened next.

The middle

He let the planchette rest on the board absentmindedly and walked away, quickly distracted by something else. Whew!

But from that moment, it didn’t take very long…

A feeling started growing, an icky sort of feeling. Guilt perhaps? Like I had done her wrong? Like I had broken a promise between us? But how? We’d only just met that day.

It’s so fuzzy to think back to that night. The three of us had some dessert? Then, I think the two of them went off to play some video games in the rec room? I found myself alone in the kitchen with the board maybe? I don’t quite recall all the details. I’m desperately trying to recollect all my memories to relay them to you here, but it’s really tough.

I do remember one thing for certain. Through the haze of details, I can remember noticing that icky feeling was growing, and growing.

Oh boy. I tried not to get too worked up about it but my mind started spiraling: What the hell. What happened? We were having such a nice day. Why?!

And then, the ickiness started to sink down into my stomach. Every time I looked at the board now, I started feeling kind of queasy. A twinge of a headache. My heart rate creeping up.

It’s official — I’m officially scared. I was so happy to see the board earlier today. We were going to be best friends! I had hopes and dreams for us!

But now…

There was no denying it now. Something was up with that board. So, I made a flash decision and swiftly moved the whole board and the box it came in into the living room. I placed her delicately on the coffee table and slinked out of there as quickly as I could.

I told myself it was all going to be fine, things would work themselves out. Wow, my imagination was really doing a number on me, huh?!

But I did feel a little better. Yes, some distance is what we need right now. Tomorrow will be better. Don’t worry about it now.

The friend left. We cleaned up. I dared not disturb the board in any way. We went to bed.

And then?

It only got worse.

The end (for tonight)

I woke up in the middle of the night, sometime around 3AM. It was odd, it felt like it was the middle of the day. And there was no cause, no reason, no upset stomach. Nothing. I was just wide awake.

I got up, thinking a quick trip to the bathroom couldn’t hurt. Maybe when I got back into bed, I would find sleep again.

This next part I remember very well…

I get up. Walk to the bathroom. But something is different. I shouldn’t be feeling this much energy, not at this hour. Very strange, very strange indeed.

I finish up and start heading back to bed. I’m walking down the dark hallway when it starts.

This crawling feeling — up my spine, down my arm — and now I’m feeling warm.

Really warm.

Like the kind of warm I feel when there are too many eyes on me. Like when I’m making an announcement in front of a large crowd. Like when I was pressured to give an impromptu speech at my very impromptu bridal shower.

— Alright! What the hell!! Something is up. I can’t shake this weird, crawling, warm feeling so I pick up the pace and jump back into bed.

And guess what? The Boy is also wide awake!

“Hello,” he mumbles. He sounds sleepy and kind of lonely.

“What! What are you doing up?!” I whisper at him, fiercely.

“I had a bad dream,” he confesses.

My heart feels like it just took an elevator straight down to the bottom of my innards. Thank goodness it was dark because I can only imagine the look of horror on my face. I can feel it — this is no coincidence.

It’s her. She did this.

Penny.

How ya doin’ over there??? Send me a flare in the comments! Or are you totally not fazed by any of this?! Do you own a Ouija board? How’s that going for you? I’m curious!

Join me tomorrow for Part 2 of my Ouija board story! I’m actually feeling pretty proud of myself right now. I don’t think I’ve ever published so many days in a row, woohoo!

¡Hasta mañana!

With cariño,

Maribel

1. Turns out, “Ouija” is a trademarked name and has been erroneously attributed to all talking boards.