Read the Rhush

I plopped down in the recliner,

my stomach twisting into knots, worried

it would happen… again.

“You ok?” Mom asked, watching as I swallowed

down the oversized sleeping pill with a glass

of soda.

“I guess. But-”

“It’s just waking nightmares.” She put a

reassuring hand on mine. “The doctor called

it… what was that? Sleep Paralysis?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged.

“He said it’s been around since the

Renaissance at least. Which explains half

those weird paintings.”

Mom gave me a pat on the leg, then shoved up

from the couch. “Oh! Look what I got for the

party.” She bounced over to the kitchen table.

Grabbing the white shopping bag with a red

bull’s-eye on it, she slid out a box.

“A ouija board?”

“Yeah! Thought it’d be fun. You know,

Halloween and all.”

“You shouldn’t mess with that stuff, Mom.”

I warned, knowing I had learned everything

there was to really worry about from

horror flicks.

“You watch too many movies, Courtney.”

Mom snorted, tearing the plastic off to

reveal a blue Mattel box. “Don’t tell me

you believe in that crap! Ghosts and such!”

“Your opening yourself up to dark powers that

you don‘t want.”

I warned in my best ‘you’ll get what’s coming

to you’ voice.

“Dark powers?” She slid the box top off,

digging out the lettered board. “Aren’t

those your weekend mall buddies?”

“Wearing black clothes and makeup doesn’t

mean you sacrifice cute little bunnies, Mom.” 

I rolled my eyes. “It means you’re Goth.”

“I guess you would know… Wednesday.” That was

about the six hundredth time Mom had made that

reference to the Adam’s Family, but somehow

she just kept finding it clever.

“You’re dabbling.”

“Dabbling? What… in witchcraft or something?”

Mom snickered, offended. “I go to church on

“I think those two sermons might have

gone over your head.” I taunted under

my breath.

“Oh, as if a ouija board is ‘dabbling’!

I am a grown woman. I think I can keep

myself safe while playing board games.

For Heaven‘s sake!”

“I’m serious, Mom. Need I mention that

movie ‘The Exorcist‘?”

“They didn‘t use a ouija board in that movie.”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Courtney… hush.”

“Whatever. I’m taking my nap.” Crossing my

arms, I sunk into the coffee colored cushions.

A couple restless minutes later, I peeked at

the clock. 5:00 pm. Ok, that put about 2

minutes under my belt. I closed my

eyes again, trying not to think about

the “nightmares”.

That stupid doctor doesn‘t know what he‘s

talking about.

I shifted to the left. The right. Tried

breathing deep.

Nothing is going to happen…. I reassured

myself. Ugh!

Still unable to doze, I stared back

at the bright red numbers on the digital

clock. 5:09. This was hopeless. Even

exhausted, I couldn’t make myself sleep.

I tried to relax my jaw to keep from

grinding my teeth. Tried counting to

one-hundred. Toss. Turn. I popped my eyes

open in frustration. 5:13. Ring!

“Hello?” Mom answered. I watched her pace

around the kitchen table setting up her ouija

board, half eyeballing the game directions,

half talking to Joyce on the other end

of the phone. “You’re coming? Good!”

Phone pause. “Yeah, I bought one today. It’s on

the table now.” Mom said with obvious glee.

I rolled my eyes. Why isn’t this stupid pill

working?

That’s when I heard it. The high pitched buzzing.

It stung into my teeth like acid. Sweat surfaced,

boiling over my skin. My brain felt like it was

cooking. No… please, not again! I knew these signs.

They were a warning. Then, just on the edge of my

sight, I saw something. Trying to turn my head,

I realized. I can’t move! My head felt heavy, like

a sack of bricks. A hot tingle shot up my spine.

I strained, ordering my muscles to move. I tried

to shift in the cushions. Lift my leg.

Sit up. Wiggle a toe. Anything. My body refused,

laying paralyzed, making me feel like a soul

trapped in a dead body. Suddenly, a gust of stink

fumed through the front room,

fingering through my hair. The stench reminded

me of the sickening-sweet reek of a decaying

horse carcass I had once seen rotting under

the summer heat.The movement continued in my

peripheral vision. Pale hands… or bones,

I couldn’t tell which, sneaking up from the

middle of the ouija board. Like a growing shadow,

a dark image emerged, pulling itself up out of

the board. I tried to turn my head to get a better

look, but sat frozen, damned by the paralysis.

Mom! I screamed inside my head, begging my vocal

chords to generate sound, but Mom kept her

back to me, unaware as she put canned green beans

away in the cabinet.

Mom! The man settled into a crouch on the rim

of the table, looking like a mammoth crow.

Ogling my mom. Rising to stand, it stretched

up to be at least seven feet tall. To avoid

the ceiling, he cocked his head, cracking

his neck bones loud enough to send shivers

like ice water through my veins. Straining,

I gritted my teeth, fighting to move, to

scream… but I felt as stiff as a corpse in

rigor mortis. The entity leapt from the table,

inching toward my mom in a mechanical, un-human

walk that grated as if his bones were

splintering and crumbling as he went.

Fearful the demon might see me, I closed my

eyes, begging to disappear into my chair.

Suddenly, the stench clouded thicker,

as if the entire room littered in day old dead

bodies. I kept my eyes shut, hiding in the dark

of my mind. All I could hear

was the bones grinding in his walk. Like the

sound of gravel and backward snapping elbows

grating in my ears. The stink grew

so heavy I could taste it. Rank flavors spoiling

on my tongue. Choking, I tried to hold my breath,

but realized… my breath could not be held. Like

a plastic bag pulled over my face, I couldn’t

breath. Desperate for air, I opened my eyes.

Nearly swallowing my own tongue, I gagged. The demon

loomed over me, his bony hands clutching into the

armrests at my sides. My eyes bulged so wide I

felt their strain. This… thing leaned into me,

his dead gray lips hovering, sucking the breath

out of me. His face was sallow and his skin

stretched thin over the jutted bones beneath.

I felt myself drawn into his eyes, and it was

only then that I realized. They stared back on

me, solid white. Soulless. Wicked.

I tried to shut my mouth, my chest crushing

under the demon’s heavy presence, but his

suction pried it back open. The pull of air

lifted the crucifix hanging at my neck,

levitating it to his mouth. As the cross

touched his lips, a spark shot, like a fork

jabbed in a light socket. The smell of

roasting flesh burnt into my nostrils with a

tendril of smoke, and the demon recoiled,

touching a bony finger to his bleeding lips.

With his body held in place like a tombstone

in the dirt, he splintered his neck into a

half turn, eyeing my mom. One crunching turn

later, he stared on me again, a disturbing

grin contorting his mouth. Bones grinding,

he staggered backward into the kitchen, his

white, dead eyes fixed on me. Leaning into the

cabinet, he turned his white glare to my mom,

who now stood on her step ladder, putting

cans away on the top shelf. Tipping his

bleeding gray lips to her ear, he whispered.

“You want me to meet you now?” Mom asked,

the phone still cradled on her other shoulder.

He continued his whispering while sliding

the keys tagged mom’s taxi over to her.

“Give me ten minutes. Bye.”

He looked back to me with his glowing eyes,

still grinning.

Mom stepped down the ladder to hang up the phone.

“Who was that?” I heard my dad call from

the garage.

“Joyce. I’m going to meet her for coffee.

We’re discussing holding a séance at the

party tomorrow.”

“Is Courtney going with you?”

“Ha! You know Courtney is too cool to be

seen with Mom. Besides, she’s asleep in

the recliner.” No I’m not! Please!

Mom, don’t go!

Knock! Knock! Knock! The thudding at the

door shook me awake.

I glanced at the clock. 6:01. I let out a

relieved sigh. Just another nightmare….

“Yes?” I heard my dad at the front door.

“Mr. Grant?”

“Yes.” There were a few more mumbles,

but I couldn’t make them out.

The pill mom had given me made me

groggy. I had to fight just to stay

awake.

“Are you sure it was her?” I heard my dad

ask. More mumbles. 6:02.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Grant.”

I heard the front door click shut,

followed by muffled cries.

“Dad?” I managed to mutter, but knew he

probably couldn’t hear me. I closed my

eyes, drifting back into sleep. Suddenly,

I felt a palm rest on my knee.

“Courtney?” My dad said under his breath.

“What… what is it?” I asked, prying my heavy

eyelids open to see my dad on the couch

across from me, his eyes glassy.

“It’s….” He paused. “You know what?

I’ll tell you when you wake up.”

He patted my knee as I drifted asleep

again. I don’t know how much time passed

before I noticed the putrid smell creeping

back, but the moment I realized it, my

eyes shot open. A jolt of panic flashed

through me. The white-eyed demon stood

Thank You and come again. Please drive through.