Weegie

She knew she wasn’t supposed to have the thing – let alone have it in her bedroom. Bette’s father had forbidden it and now she was sitting on the couch listening to him lecture on the evils of the Ouija Board.

“But its jus’ harmless game board,” Bette protested.

Her father either didn’t hear her or he ignored her completely. Instead he continued his rant on the evils of the Ouija Board and how it was a vulgar item in the face of their Catholic religion.

As he did this, she sat on the couch watching the thing burn in the living room fireplace behind her father. As she watched, the smoke curled and rolled up the chimney flue.

She became transfixed on the gray clouds as they grew darker and darker, until they nearly blacked out the flames engulfing the board. Bette could smell the smoke – it seemed tainted – like a burning steak.

She found herself smiling as the smoke started bellowing outward, hanging low along the shag carpet. Bette was no longer listening to her father’s voice as it suddenly sounded miles away.

There was a sudden flash – followed by a long fall into darkness. It seemed like hours before she wakened to the unfamiliar sight of flashing red lights and the feel of the chill of evening air.

“I don’t know what happened,” Bette heard herself say to the fire investigator.

It was then she realized she was sitting outside on the curb as what was left her parent’s home crumbled into an ash heap.  She was confused but otherwise unharmed.

Beside her rested the Ouija Board – undamaged.