A Small Change and a Ouija Story

We are relocating again, from one Residence Inn to another Residence Inn located closer to our new home. Turns out the one hour and fifteen minute commute isn’t ideal with toddlers, a baby and two dogs. It’s so tricky, in fact, that we are giving up a two-bedroom hotel suite for a studio just to avoid the hellish traffic. So please, forgive me, but I will publish the next ghost story (about an ex-paranormal investigator from Wellesley who has a word of caution for anyone considering dabbling in the field) next Friday.

In the meantime, I am beginning to receive some truly disturbing stories from readers, several of which have chilled me to the core. I’ve been granted permission to publish one of these stories. You all know that I have a bee in my bonnet about Ouija boards. The following tale backs up my fear, and then some. Here it is, in one reader’s own words. She wishes to remain anonymous and I’ve removed identifying information, but if you would like to discuss the situation further, or if you’ve had your own similar encounter, please message me and I will put you in touch with her directly. She (and I) consider this a true cautionary tale.


“Hi Liz,

I wish you had given me that Ouija board tip back in 1985 when I had just graduated from XXX.  I was just at that age where I had picked up so many bad habits that I just couldn’t move back in with my parents, so I did the next best thing, I walked down the street and moved in with my grandmother.  My grandmother ran a boarding house (think Lackawanna Blues) and she was kind enough to let me move into a tiny room off of her kitchen and pay her $100 a month.  My parents lived on the opposite end of the street in XXX, NY.  I had been fascinated with Ouija boards, and had started playing with one in my apartment before I graduated.  The fact that I had called forth an 18th century ghost that kept cutting off my TV, turning my lights on and off and drove my cat crazy wasn’t enough to deter me.  Nope.  The fact that my boyfriend (now husband) left my apartment at the crack of dawn one morning because he said a lady in old-fashioned clothing was standing over the bed and staring at him didn’t deter me either.  The fact that one night I was up late and saw this same woman with her hand on my bannister peering from the top step into my bedroom (like do I know you?) which made me scream, kick my door closed and play Prince songs until well after the sun came up still didn’t deter me.

Nope, I played with the Ouija board in my grandmother’s house.  Now remember this was a boarding house where people rented actual rooms.  People had lived and died in that house and I could remember at least three of them off of the top of my head.  There was Mr. XX who died of old age.  There was XX who died of cancer in his 30’s and I remember this kid XX who I grew up with – he rented a room from my grandmother with his girlfriend and they had a baby who died of crib death.  I remember all of these things.  So needless to say when I played with a Ouija in that particular structure all hell broke loose.

I really don’t like to talk about it but strange things happened, from my bed constantly shaking, to knocking on the walls.  Someone who looked just like my grandmother would walk into the room (my room was right off the door to the basement), go downstairs into the basement and I would come out later only to see my grandmother sitting at the table cutting up vegetables.  Round about this time my grandmother was starting to get Alzheimer’s.  I tried my best with her but she would forget where she parked her car and sometimes she would forget to eat.  My parents told me that they would take care of her and that it was time for me to move out.  My coming and going at all hours was inconsistent and I was too self-absorbed to be of any real consistent help.

Round about this time my sisters had moved out of the apartment that they were sharing upstairs from my parents (it was a two family home) and I was more than happy to high tail it from the ghosties that I had conjured up in my grandmother’s house.  I threw the Ouija board away…I think…I actually don’t remember what I did with it, but I’m pretty sure that I tossed it.  I moved into the apartment, never touched a Ouija and my boyfriend who was now my fiancé told me that I better not ever touch that shit again.  I agreed.

The bad thing was that even though I had walked away from the house and the Ouija, my grandmother couldn’t get away from it.  My mother used to tell me that my grandmother’s Alzheimer’s had gotten really bad, she couldn’t remember anything and she had taken to drinking beer.  My grandmother never drank the entire time that I knew her but now she would get her tenants to buy her cases of beer and she would drink it non-stop.  I stopped by to visit her a few times but she didn’t remember who I was and she had adopted this really creepy laugh that was NOT the woman who helped to raise me.  One time my mother said she came by to bring her dinner (my Mom took care of her every day, bathed her cooked for her etc.) and she said that my grandmother came to the door scooting her butt along the floor and walking like a crab.  C’mon the woman was 90.  My mother said it freaked her out completely.  I never told my parents about my Ouija games at my grandmother’s house and I can’t help but feel complete guilt about what I might have possibly let into her home.  I sometimes think that something from the Ouija possessed her and I live with an immense amount of guilt whenever I think about it.  My grandmother was a devout Catholic, she had just gotten old.  Eventually she passed away and I just hope that she went someplace peaceful.  My parents sold her house and it was flipped a couple of times.

About two years ago, I had just come from visiting my father (my Mom had died about 12 years prior and my Dad had remarried), I was in the car with my sister and I slowed down at the corner to look at my grandmother’s old house.  There was a little girl standing in the vestibule.  She was cute as a button and waving at us through the glass door.  But there was also something else.  A BEING… he was standing there with his hand on her shoulder and scowling…he had this hideous, monstrous frightening scowl.  It’s really hard to describe because he looked almost animated and he was wearing all black.  The little girl was still waving and my sister said to me…”Do you see that shit?  He’s not human, THAT IS NOT HUMAN!”  Eventually the little girl turned and opened the door behind her to walk back inside.  That thing was latched onto her back and slowly followed her inside.  Whatever I let into that house is still living there… and it just tears me up to know that it might be still hurting others.

You said that everyone has at least one ghost story and this one is mine.  Don’t know if you can use it, it’s short, but I have never admitted to anyone how playing with a Ouija board affected both me and my loved ones.  Playing with something like that opens a portal and if you don’t know what you’re doing you can let any damn evil ass demon or ghost into your life.  My children are now 22 and 20 and I told my sons that if anyone brings out a Ouija board around them to call me and I will come get them right away.  I told them that as children and 1x I did have to get my oldest when he was in elementary school and he was spending the night over a friend’s house.  The whole family was playing with a Ouija and he called me with a shaky voice.  I jumped into the car and brought him home.  I don’t play that shit…not after what I’ve seen can happen first hand.”

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