Subject: Strange Things
Date: Saturday, April 01, 2006 11:09 AM
Hey, everyone. I’ve been a long-time lurker here, reading ghost stories
and trying to figure out if they’re true or not, because there’s no
way some of these aren’t fiction pretending to be reality. However,
this is a true story. But just as a note, the names of my friends have
I’m only thirteen, but some of my friends and I are interested in the
paranormal, including Ouija boards, ghosts, and witchcraft. We all got
together at my friend Tony’s house, and decided to fool around with the
Ouija board. It was myself, Tony, Lucy, Colette, and Katie, and we had
at least two candles burning. We all sat in a circle with two fingers
each on the planchette of the Parker Brothers’ brand board. Katie was
really, really scared, and she kept wanting to stop, but being a bunch
of headstrong just-turned teenagers, we begged her to keep going with
Before I go any further, I should mention that my friend Lucy is
obsessed with Titanic, both the movie and the historical event. She got
me into the movie, and while the event is interesting, I don’t study it
with the fervor that she does. The five of us tried to contact numerous
actors who had played the Phantom in various versions of Phantom of the
Opera, unsuccessfully. Finally, we got in contact with a ghost who
introduced herself as a woman, twenty-three years old at the time of
her death, named Raop. None of us had heard of a name like Raop before.
“I can feel her,” I remember Lucy saying. “She’s here.”
Katie was shaking visibly. When we asked Raop what year she died in,
she said 1912. Lucy and I were very interested by then, and Katie was
freaking out. Lucy asked how she died, and the planchette began to
spell out T-I-T and was moving towards the A before I said, “Did you
die on the Titanic?” She said yes. We learned that she had been a
Since Katie was such a nervous wreck, we were overly polite so as not
to offend Raop, such as saying stuff like “If you don’t mind us asking,
how did you die? But if you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.”
At one point, Tony got up to get something from his desk, and the
planchette wouldn’t move until he got back. As the session continued,
the planchette moved faster and stronger. When Lucy asked us if she
could ask Raop to show herself, Katie and I both said no. Katie because
she was scared, and me because I thought Katie would have a heart
attack if she did. And maybe I was a bit nervous myself. Raop said very
suddenly that she had to go, and we were left speculating.
Somehow, we convinced Katie to play again, and we contacted another
spirit, who didn’t talk very much. But Lucy jumped a mile into the air
and said “Someone grabbed my ass!” We laughed at her, but she was
serious, and we knew it. We were trying to laugh off what could very
well be something dangerous. And was it us, or had the room gotten
colder? It was probably us – a bunch of teenagers wanting something
exciting to happen – but it was still freaky. Lucy said she felt like
the spirit didn’t mean well, and since we all know Lucy’s somewhat
psychic, we believed her. I was feeling bad vibes as well. Some of my
friends from my old school suspect I have some psychic ability, but
it’s never been very prominent, and I’ve never actually seen a ghost or
lived in a haunted house. My “psychic” tendency is to be thinking of a
tune, and then my brother will start humming it. Or have an episode of
a certain show on my mind, only to flick on the TV and realize that
episode of that show is on, or going to be on later, or was on just
before. We got the spirit, who wouldn’t tell us his or her name
(although I suspected it was male if it had indeed touched Lucy) to
leave, and put away the board. We spent the rest of the evening until
our parents came to pick us up calming Katie down.
That night, I was instant messaging Lucy, and she said she had been
researching passengers with the name Raop, and found out that it was a
German name meaning “hope.” Raop had been a German immigrant with her
mother, both of them steerage, and died on April 14th, 1912.
The next day, I was talking to Tony, and I asked him if Raop was
haunting his room. I remember his response very clearly:
“Not haunting,” he said. “More, just hanging out. And when I was
getting changed last night, I felt a cold blast of air when I didn’t
have my shirt on.”
I didn’t say anything, but I had a feeling that might have either been
his imagination, or something to do with the fact that he was shirtless.
A couple of days later, Tony said he’d been talking to Raop for awhile.
I asked if she’d said exactly how she died, and according to Tony, when
the ship actually struck the iceberg, Raop slid on some ice and hit her
head. I’m not sure if I believe that, because a death before the ship
fell into chaos would probably have been documented, but there’s no
sure way to know that.
Sometime about a month after that incident, Colette, Lucy, Tony, and I
were at his house again, practicing for our school talent show. We were
doing selections from Phantom of the Opera – Tony as the pianist and
the Phantom, Lucy as Meg, Colette as Madame Giry, and myself as
Christine. You’re probably thinking I’m rambling, but this is important.
When Colette and Lucy left, my mother was late picking me up, so I
suggested we played the Ouija board again. Tony agreed, and we lit two
candles. The holder had two “stories” (for lack of a better word) and
one tealight candle went on each story. We contacted Raop, and asked
her some questions. I’m an agnostic, so I was very interested to know
if there really was a Heaven or Hell, to which Raop replied yes. When I
asked if people who committed suicide really went to Hell, she said yes
as well. Tony gave me a funny look and asked why I was asking, but I
was just curious. Then, Tony (who is obsessed with the Phantom of the
Opera) asked Raop if she could send him an angel of music.
Surprisingly, she said yes. Tony got very excited, and asked what time.
Raop said 12:00, which I assumed meant midnight.
My mother came then, so I said goodbye to Raop, wished Tony luck with
his angel of music, and got into the car. The next day, I called Tony,
eager to hear what had happened, and was met with a very disgruntled
thirteen-year-old. Nothing had happened, but according to Tony, that
“might’ve been because I spent the night at another house.”
“Well, duh, you idiot,” I remember saying.
Since then, none of us have really played the Ouija board, but that’s
not the end of our paranormal stories. Lucy is interested in spells and
witchcraft, as am I, though I haven’t really tried anything. Lucy and I
both dress in dark colors and shop at Hot Topic and all those fun
places, and I don’t know about her, but I have a rather bleak outlook
on life and am probably more pessimistic than most people. A girl named
Kerry Parson always used to give Lucy a hard time, a couple of years
ago, before I moved to the district in which Lucy, Tony, Colette,
Katie, and unfortunately, Kerry, go to. Lucy told me a few days ago
that Kerry used to make fun of her to no end, so Lucy cast a spell on
her. She wasn’t specific in details until she told me how she went
about casting this spell, so I’m not sure when this actually happened,
but I think it’s wearing off.
Lucy took a picture of Kerry and then took white thread and wrapped it
around the picture, repeating “I bind you, Kerry Parson, from doing
harm, harm to others and harm to yourself” until the thread ran out.
Then, she burned the picture, and since then Kerry hasn’t given her any
The reason I think it’s wearing off is because Lucy’s crush, Jesse, is
now dating Kerry. Jesse used to hang out with Lucy’s friends (with whom
I am friendly, but I don’t know a lot of them very well), and dresses
in dark colors. Kerry is in the popular crowd, and according to Lucy
(since I don’t really know Jesse, I can’t say for myself), he’s
changing. I won’t go into detail, but from what Lucy’s told me, he’s
becoming a jerk.
Well, thanks for reading my ridiculously long entry. Any updates on
paranormal activity and I’ll be sure to send in some more entries.
That’s my story. Or, really, several stories.