Home Self-Discovery Short Stories We Are Not Alone: ARE YOU?

We Are Not Alone: ARE YOU?

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No, no, I didn’t mean to startle you with my words but the story I am going to narraaate might give you goosebumps all over.

So, have you ever heard of the Quija board game? I bet you have. The scary game that we all have heard of and want to try but lack guts. All of us sometimes or the other joke about talking to the spirits but only a few are insane enough to try hands on it.

I and my friend on one of our night stay talked about it, we talked about it a bit more and continued doing so. It was my birthday two days later so we decided we’ll try it on that day.

It was the D-day, my birthday and the day when we had to try our hands at the game. We got the Quija board printed on an A3 sized photo paper and bought a pair of a magnet. We did a thorough googling about its practice, rules, and consequences.

We were shit scared, but somewhere deep down we had a firm belief that spirits are nothing more than a myth and this myth was created to keep

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We were five people in the room. Kritika, my sister decided not to play the game. So we gave her a task of increasing the horror quotient by making ghostly noises and set the mood right. The rest of us held the magnets with our forefingers. I, being the birthday girl was leading the group.

“Spirits good or evil if you are passing by, show us your presence.”

After the first two chants, Kritika made some ghostly noises and we all giggled at the stupidity of the game.

“From heaven and from hell, to this sinful earth, show us your presence.”

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Some more giggles were heard, and soon after this, the terrace door crashed shut! What followed was an eerie silence, only to be broken by the sinister laughter of Mohit, my friend. I spanked his hand because I knew it was one of his dirty pranks. The laughter was contagious, I guess. Soon, Rohit and Mahima followed there turns. I, from the sidelines, was concentrating on Kritika’s ghostly moans.

All this traumatic laughter’s and ghostly moans continued for quite some time and when it subsided, the silence of December night was deafening.

I shrugged and asked everybody to lighten the atmosphere. But, all of that came echoing back to me as an answer. The answer to my statement was sheer silence accompanied by a chilled winter breeze.

None of us moved from our places, our forefingers where glued to the exact same places over the magnets that were placed on the board, the candles were lightened all around the board. The magnet started to move on its own, or so I supposed. And, it made a word that sent a shiver down our spines.

“D-E-A-T-H”

I was not at all accepting that all of this was done by a spirit, but, what happened next shook me to the core.

Kritika was the first one to move from her position. She looked absolutely pale, her eyes were as emotionless as of the dead. She walked to the edge of the terrace and jumped from the fourth floor.

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Nobody moved, we were not in our sense after what we saw, we were all still.

Next was Mohit followed Mahima and last was Rohit, they all did what Kritika did.

I was numb, numb at the fact that I made an offering to the other world just to see them, talk to them just for my fun. I was all safe and nothing had happened to me. I didn’t know what made friends suicide.

It has been 5 years since that deadly night. I live with the dead now, I talk to them, I see them.

My doctor says its nothing but hallucination, it was nothing but the trauma that was doing this to me. The trauma was too much to handle and I needed psychiatric help which might help me for good. But I don’t need any help, I am not mad, I know it is all present in front of me it is all true.

My friends tell me every night before I sleep –

“We are not alone.”

I do believe in them, do you??

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An impulsive writer and compulsive procrastinator, she energizes her daily grind with coffee, diversions and discourse. All she need to get through life is a flawlessly brewed coffee to accompany her vacillation and is lethargically motivated. On days when she is not writing, you’ll find her reading, watching movies and pigging out. Usually an escapist from worldly problem, seeking solace in books and food. Has a master’s degree in classical dance and has left no corners undiscovered when it comes to being creative and learning an art. A crazy coffee sweetheart who earnestly trusts in the magical power of words.