Mine Read online

  Well, at least someone would finally believe her.

  They went inside, and as they headed upstairs to Lily’s room, Rachel stopped four steps up.

  “Did you feel that?” Rachel asked.

  Lily stopped, too. “Feel what?”

  “The way that step jiggled. I bet this house has secret hidey-holes all over it. Have you checked for loose floorboards?”

  “I did in my room. I didn’t find anything.” Lily didn’t mention that, although she’d been kind of sad not to find anything at first, now she was glad to know there was no creepy hole in her room. But as for the stair…

  “Which one?”

  Rachel stepped two steps lower and squatted down to wiggle the board she’d been standing on. “This one. I could be wrong, but it feels loose. My grandmother in Savannah lives in a house like this, and they have a loose stair, and a hidden library, and all sorts of weird stuff. Doesn’t this house feel old to you? Like, older than most houses around here? You just don’t see a lot of wood houses here.”

  Lily ran her hand over the top of the loose board and couldn’t help being curious. Maybe the little key to the cupboard under the stairs would be there, or maybe something even cooler, like Britney’s diary. At least if something weird happened, there would be a witness. And it was daylight, too, not nighttime in between horrific nightmares.

  Just as Rachel had guessed, the board wiggled loose and Lily was able to lift it up. The stair was hollow, making a neat little wooden box. And inside it was something seriously dramatic, something utterly enthralling.

  It was a Ouija board.

  16.

  “Okay,” Rachel said, sounding unsure. “That’s a bit much.”

  Lily was surprised by her worry, considering Rachel had brought up ghosts. “It’s kind of cool, though, right? I mean, a séance! Dramatic lighting, velvet robes, harpsichord music…”

  If they’d found it at night, Lily would’ve been scared. If it had been covered with bloodstains or cobwebs—or worse, both—she would’ve thrown it in the swamp. But here it was, looking cleaner and newer than pretty much anything else in the house. Even if the thing made her stomach do backflips, Lily couldn’t help being drawn to the drama of it all.

  It was just a board game. Just paper and plastic.

  Not shadows, not whispers, not the jingling of a collar.

  Just a game—and one she knew well. She’d played with a Ouija board before at slumber parties, and she was definitely the person who took control and made it say all sorts of creepy stuff. If there was any magic behind such things, it was someone like Lily who wanted to make her friends either giggle or pee their pants.

  Rachel stepped up one more stair like she was trying to get away from it. “I’ve heard they’re evil.”

  “Evil? It’s a board game. You can buy it from Amazon.” Lily didn’t want Rachel to think she was a complete dork, but then again, she needed Rachel to be here while she used it. If something crazy was going to happen, she didn’t want to be alone.

  “I don’t know. Ghost hunting is one thing, but actually talking to a ghost, getting its attention…”

  “It’ll be fun,” Lily said. “We can ask it about what happened here that night you saw all the lights. If there are ghosts, this will tell us for certain, right?”

  Rachel sat and considered the open step. “I guess. I mean, it doesn’t sound like a nice ghost, though. Everything you’ve said— It wants you to go away. Like, it wants to hurt you. I don’t know if I want it to get mad at me, too.”

  Lily looked down at the box that was still lying in the hidden stair. It had been waiting under the wooden step for who knew how long, and yet there was no dust on it. But maybe there wasn’t even a Ouija board in that box. Maybe it was something normal. Like Scrabble. There was no world in which Scrabble was scary.

  “But…” Lily paused, considering. “Don’t you want to know, either way?”

  It was a dare, plain and simple.

  Their eyes met as Rachel considered it, lips twitching. She tentatively picked up the box, put it in her lap, and opened it as if it was the most normal thing in the world to find a Ouija board under a hidden stair in the creepiest house in Florida.

  “It has everything,” Rachel confirmed. “Even the little triangle thingy. The planchette, it says it’s called. I think that’s all we need, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’ve never done it before. Can anything bad happen?” Rachel’s natural curiosity was clearly warring with the freakiness of the house.

  “Depends on what movies you watch and which books you read,” Lily said. She was actually a little worried now that they were preparing to use the thing, but she had to pretend she wasn’t scared. Rachel was here and the sun was out, and she wanted answers. Maybe, just maybe, the Ouija board could tell her something real about what she was experiencing.

  “Oh, I watch plenty of horror movies, just none with Ouija boards,” Rachel answered. “You have to come spend the night sometime soon. My house is extremely unhaunted. We can stay up all night watching scary movies and being terrified and eating candy.”

  Lily did not mention that she had spent several nights recently both awake and terrified, and she would not have enjoyed it, even with candy. She didn’t really want to watch someone else going through it, either. Spooky books were more her speed, so she could put the story down and walk away when it got too intense. But she didn’t want to tell Rachel that, not now.

  Rachel stood holding the box in her hands. “So should we do this in your room? Or maybe out on the dock, since that’s where I saw the caution tape?”

  Neither spot sounded like fun. Lily’s room sometimes had a life of its own, and the rickety, slimy dock down by the deep, dark water always made her uneasy.

  “My room, I guess,” she decided.

  The steps had never seemed particularly challenging before, but now each one felt like it was a yard tall. Lily wanted to do this, or at least she wanted answers, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.

  Luckily, she was very good at pretending to be brave.

  Lily led the way into her room, which looked normal enough, if a little sad and dull. Rachel didn’t say anything about it, but she did look around briefly, her mouth pursed.

  “My stuff should be here next week,” Lily said, as sort of an apology. “I know it’s pretty…drab.”

  At that Rachel looked around more carefully. “So everything that’s here belongs to…”

  “Yeah. Whoever lived here before.” Lily wasn’t quite ready to say Britney’s name out loud. It would be a good test of whether or not it worked when Lily wasn’t moving the planchette: If they asked the Ouija board for a name, Rachel wouldn’t be able to make it spell out the name she didn’t know.

  Rachel handed Lily the box, and Lily sat down cross-legged and spread out the board in front of her. “Now you sit down across from me, and we both put our fingertips very lightly on the planchette. Then we ask questions, and it gives answers.”

  Rachel sat down. “Does it give the answers, or do ghosts do it? Kyle said he did this once at a party, and there were like ten guys doing it at once, and David Bowie’s ghost supposedly told them to run around the house in their underwear. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a real ghost, though.” Rachel giggled nervously, and Lily tried to smile a normal smile, but for the first time, weirdly, her mouth had forgotten how.

  She realized they hadn’t checked under her mattress yet, and she glanced behind her door to make sure the shadows there weren’t doing anything sinister. Which they weren’t. Everything seemed calm and still. The usual afternoon thunderstorm was on its way, the sky just beginning to turn gray. Eventually the black clouds would roll in, and heavy rain would beat the house and lash at the trees. But for now, things seemed tranquil enough. And even the storm was just a normal
part of Florida life.

  Lily put her fingertips on the triangle thing—the planchette, she reminded herself. She gave Rachel a look, checking that she was still all in, and nodded at her in an encouraging, brave sort of way. Rachel put her fingertips on it, too. In the center of the planchette was a circular window, and Lily eyed it warily.

  “What should we ask it?” Rachel said.

  “Whatever you want.” Lily had her own questions, but it would seem more natural if she let Rachel go first.

  “Is there a ghost here?”

  Rachel’s voice was low and solemn and properly dramatic. Lily approved.

  Her fingertips were cold on the planchette, and she was committed to not moving it herself. But she was also paying close attention and hoping that she would be able to tell if Rachel tried to move the light plastic object on her own. Lily was expecting something to happen, but she thought it would be slow and gentle, like the two girls were trying to convince each other. Instead, the planchette dragged their fingers quickly to the word YES.

  Rachel did not giggle, which is what Lily had expected her to do. Instead, Rachel looked at her with wide, serious eyes. “Did you do that?”

  “Definitely not. Did you? Did…we?”

  She and Rachel were looking directly into each other’s eyes when the planchette bucked underneath their fingertips again.

  When Lily looked down, the planchette was pointing at the word NO.

  So, no, neither girl was controlling the planchette, supposedly. Lily pressed down a little harder, just in case it was Rachel moving it, so that Rachel would know she was onto her.

  “How many ghosts are here?” Rachel asked, almost a dare.

  The planchette jerked over to 1 and then 2, dragging Lily’s fingertips with it.

  Rachel looked at Lily, as if she had any idea what was going on. “Does that mean one or two? Or twelve?”

  In a tiny whisper, Lily said, “Ask it for a name.”

  But Rachel didn’t have to ask. The planchette jumped again, forcefully.

  It landed on B.

  Then R.

  Then I.

  Every hair on Lily’s arms rose as she waited for the planchette to land on T.

  But it didn’t.

  It landed on A, then N.

  “Brian?” Rachel asked. “That’s a weird name for a ghost.”

  YES, the planchette said again.

  “Not Britney?” Lily asked. She wanted to be very sure. The planchette jumped to NO and remained there as if a magnet held it down. It began shaking like there was a bee inside it angrily buzzing, desperate to stay in that one place. In the next heartbeat, Lily remembered the prescriptions she’d found carefully clipped together in the laundry room.

  Prescriptions for Brian Richardson.

  “Did you used to live here, Brian?” Rachel asked.

  YES.

  “Did you die here, Brian?” Lily asked.

  YES.

  Lily looked up at Rachel again. Rachel’s eyes were wide with either fear or excitement, and she was shaking. Lily tried to pull her fingers away from the planchette, but she suddenly realized that they were ice cold, her fingertips frozen to the plastic, stuck to it with that burning tug that felt like touching ice with wet hands.

  Well, fine. If the board wasn’t done with Lily, then Lily wasn’t done with the board.

  “How did you die, Brian?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t—” Rachel started, but the planchette didn’t care. It jumped from letter to letter, taking their fingers with it, swift and shaky, certain but also frightened.

  GOT OLD HEART PROBLEMS DIDNT TAKE PILLS DIDNT SEE THE POINT AFTER

  The planchette clung to the final R and gently quivered under their fingertips.

  “After what, Brian?” Rachel asked softly.

  Lily wanted to close her eyes. She wanted to yell at Rachel for finding the stupid stair and at herself for thinking that the Ouija board was a good idea. It wasn’t funny or fun or cute. It was terrifying, and she wanted to pull away her fingertips and run downstairs to her mom, but she couldn’t. She was stuck here, pinned in place. The planchette was shivering now, and the room began to go cold and dark, and the shadows swirled like fog in the corners and behind the door and under the bed.

  In a different voice than the cool, commanding one she had used to speak to the Ouija board previously, Rachel whispered, “What’s happening? I don’t like this.”

  The planchette jerked under their fingers, as shaky as an old man’s hands fumbling with the childproof cap on his heart medicine.

  YOU DONE IT NOW, the planchette said.

  “We did what?” Lily whispered.

  Letter by letter, the planchette scurried across the board like a spider.

  BRITNEY IS COMING.

  17.

  “Who is Britney?” Rachel asked.

  Instead of answering, Lily stood up suddenly. If she couldn’t let go of the planchette, then she would at least get it off that horrible, haunted board. But the planchette clattered to the ground and skittered under her bed like a roach. She kicked the board as hard as she could, and it flapped out the door and onto the landing by the stairs. Rachel was still sitting down, mouth hanging open and fingertips hovering over where the board and planchette had just been.

  “I don’t think we want to know,” Lily said. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”

  When Rachel didn’t immediately stand, Lily reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her up.

  “Why? Who is Britney? What does that mean—Britney is coming?”

  Lily shook her head and pulled Rachel toward the door, but the door slammed shut in her face. The lights went out, but the ceiling fan turned on and began to twirl faster and faster until all four lightbulbs were rattling in their cups, the entire fan shaking like it was about to fall. The sick green light of the oncoming storm leaked through the blinds, making everything the color of zombie skin.

  “Seriously, what is this? Do you have a brother? Is this some kind of prank? Did you plan this whole thing?” Rachel asked. She was still shaking but no longer with anything remotely like excitement.

  When Lily didn’t immediately answer, Rachel yanked her hands away and looked at Lily like she was a rabid dog that could no longer be trusted. The room went even darker, and the tree branches began to beat at the roof and walls, and then the rain fell like a bag of rocks. Lily couldn’t even see outside anymore—it was dark as night. And just like last night, the room had gone colder than a walk-in freezer. Lily’s skin prickled with goose bumps, and she realized that the stinging burn in her fingertips from when she released the planchette wasn’t just the cold. When she looked down, several of her fingertips were dripping blood—the skin had been torn off.

  A weird numbness began to creep down her arms, and she felt dizzy.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” she said, unable to meet Rachel’s eyes. “I just know we have to get out of here. Britney was…I mean, this was Britney’s room. So I guess Britney is the little girl who…”

  “Died,” Rachel said in the tiniest voice. “So you’re not doing this? This isn’t, like, some drama thing?”

  Lily held up her hands to show her bloody fingertips, and Rachel gasped.

  “No, I’m not doing this.”

  Rachel ran to the door and yanked at the knob, but it didn’t even budge. Lily could hear footsteps now coming slowly up the stairs. She wanted to believe that it was her mom coming to check on them after hearing the thump of the Ouija board and the slam of the door, but she knew better. The footsteps were too light and too slow. And with each one she heard a soft squelching noise. Her heart began to flutter, and her mouth went dry.

  “I want to go now,” Rachel whispered.

  “Yeah, me too,” Lily whispered back.

 
; The footsteps stopped in front of the door. Lily stared at the gap underneath it, where there was half an inch of space between the door and the floorboards. Would she see feet there, maybe Mom’s ratty old socks? As she watched, water flooded under the door, dark and dirty, with green scum floating on top. The water smelled awful and looked like the water that she’d seen—or dreamed—in the downstairs bathroom. Lily and Rachel backed away toward the bed.

  “Why did you call me?” an angry, high-pitched voice said. It sounded babyish, like a spoiled little girl. “Why won’t you go away? This is my room. Mine.”

  “Well, it’s my room now!” Lily shouted back. The backs of her legs hit the bed, and she sat down heavily and scrambled back against the wall. “And I can’t go away. My family lives here.”

  Thump!

  It sounded like someone had kicked the door. Black water continued to flood in, rushing toward the bed in little waves.

  “No! Mine! You can’t ignore me! I’ll make you see me!” The voice filled the room, putting pressure on Lily’s ears and making her grit her teeth.

  Rachel sat down, too, and reached for Lily’s hand. They both stared at the door, clasped hands cold and shaking. Lily couldn’t decide if she wanted it to stay shut…or to open and show her whatever this thing was, whatever Britney was. Was it worse to know or not know?

  “You’ll be mine, too…”

  The voice trailed off, and then the room filled with mad laughter, a little girl’s demented giggling.

  Lily didn’t know how to make Britney go away. Beside her, Rachel trembled, her eyes closed. So Lily did the same thing she’d done this morning, something that came very naturally: She closed her eyes and screamed bloody murder so hard that the back of her throat burned. And when she ran out of air, she took a deep breath and screamed again. Rachel joined her, and Lily was glad to have someone with her, to feel her palm pressed against Rachel’s, even as her fingertips throbbed.