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Second Short Story

The Wind Inside The Church.

The setting sun beat down on roads and pavements, heat rising in a still haze that glued our hair to our heads. It was the sixth day of a heat wave and for year 12 students at Murray Heights High School the 3rd day in a row that school had closed due to the high temperature.

Mel fell back onto the bed with a groan, Sarah slumped against the wall, Libby went in search of cold drinks while I fell onto the floor in exaggerated prostration. When Libby came back she had four cans under one arm and her mothers old Ouija Board under the other.
"Look what I found," she called out as she swanned back into her bedroom.
I didn't turn my head, just grunted.
Sarah darted out to find a drinking glass and Libby roped us all into sitting around the board, our fingertips on the glass while she posed questions to unseen spirits.
"It's too hot." Mel and I moaned together.
But we sniggered when the glass moved and accused each of other of pushing while vehemently denying doing so ourselves.
"It must be cooler outside now," Sarah lifted her hair from her neck and fanned herself with a pamphlet from Libby's floor.
Libby's eyes flashed, "lets go to the old church. There will be some great ghosts there!"
"And it will be cooler inside I bet." Sarah jumped up, dragging me to my feet.
Somehow we were persuaded to troop to the end of Libby's street, at least with the sun almost setting, the heat outside seemed slightly less oppressive.
The heavy wooden door swung open with a creak that made us jump and then giggle into one an others shoulders.
The small church had not been used for services for some years but pews still stood in neat and silent rows and a contorted Christ still hung from a heavy cross on one wall.
We stepped slowly and silently through the doorway into the cooler interior. Libby crossed herself in the orthodox fashion, touching her head and stomach, then her shoulders from right to left. We cleared a space for ourselves on the floor and dropped to the ground one by one. Libby crossed her legs, Sarah fell gracefully onto one hip, Mel knelt with her feet splayed out, and I lay on my stomach with my head on my hands and my feet sticking up in the air.
Nothing much happened for a while, so our conversation turned to our usual topic of boyfriends.
But then, suddenly, the glass moved by itself.
"Quickly, get your fingers on the glass," Libby whispered to us urgently.
"Who's there," she lifted her head and spoke in a clear voice.
Nothing happened.
"Who do you have a message for?" Libby asked.
This time the glass moved under our fingertips, spelling S - A - R - A - H.
"Okay now I am spooked," Sarah murmured.
Mel fidgeted and bounced on her heels, "What do we do now Libby?"
Libby shrugged her shoulders and then spoke quickly, "I don't know, this has never happened before."
My mouth felt dry and smells of dirt and decay filled my senses, but I couldn't take my finger off the glass.
It moved again and I jumped, Mel squealed and Libby shushed us. Sarah stared at the Ouija board as if in a trance.
Slowly the glass moved to D, then E, then A then D again.
"That's not funny," Mel sounded scared. "Who's pushing the glass?"
"Do you mean Sarah will be dead?" Libby said.
"Well we all will be one day." I tried to make a joke.
"When?" Libby asked.
Nothing happened.
"When will Sarah die?" Libby shouted.
The glass moved to the 1, wobbled for a bit and then moved to the 2. It stopped completely still for a for seconds and then spelt out Y - E - A - R - S.
"It's just silliness." Sarah tossed the board and the glass to one side and darted to the door.
It slammed shut.
We all flew to the door, alternately hammering on it and trying to pull it open, but it shut tight.
I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck. A wind seemed to twist in the middle of the church, swirling leaves and dust into the air, and then picking up the pews and smashing one into the other. We pressed our backs into the door and into one another.
It could only have lasted a few seconds. The silence when the wind stopped hung heavily in the stifling air. Sarah put her hand on the door handle again, it turned easily and the door pushed open to the roar of crickets and frogs, and a gentle orange glow from the setting sun.
We ran through the carpark clutching one another's hands.
Suddenly Libby groaned, "the board, it was my grandmothers. I have to get it." Her eyes shone in her pale face.
"Let's all go back," I said somehow making myself sound braver than I felt.
"I might wait out here, in case the door sticks again." Sarah folded her arms but trailed behind us.
Of course the door opened smoothly, the board was quickly found, and we were soon striding back to Libby's house. Talking too quickly and explaining away what we had seen and felt.
We hadn't left any house lights on but we all sighed with relief to see them shining out over the driveway. Libby's mum was home.
"What have you been doing?" Her voice boomed at us from the kitchen when we walked in the front door.
"And don't tell me 'nothing mama' Elizabetha." Libby's mum filled the kitchen door, her hands on her hips, "I can smell the spirits on you from here."

This is written by a friend of mine Kim Cleary, she wrote this for the site after a chatroom discussion on Ghosts/Spirit world. Did it really happen or is just a fictional story, as with most things relating to Ghosts and the Spirit-world only one person knows the answer and hopefully she will keep it a secret. Kim has her own facebook page here. If you enjoyed this page then please stop by her facebook page and check out her other pieces of work.

© 2012 Kim Cleary All Rights Reserved.
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