Don't Insult Frank

I have always been an extremely paranoid girl even before I was diagnosed with anxiety. I know what my friends and I did was stupid, but thankfully, nothing too bad came from it. That being said, let's move on to the story.

This happened a while ago, not too long that I don't remember, but long enough that the details are, admittedly, hazy. I was in the eighth grade (currently a junior in high school) when my friend Lexy invited myself and our other friend, Vivian, over for a sleepover at her house. To be honest, I didn't much like going to her house. Lexy was an exaggerator. She made the simple act of a TV picture lingering after it is turned off sound like a demon from Hell having a rave on her roof. But I digress. Anyway, she had told me of a few little happenings that had gone on in her house. The one I remember most was about her mother having a handful of potpourri thrown in her face by an invisible hand nothing else too incredible.

Lexy's house was rather small. A large, central living room sort of melded into a kitchen/dining room with no real separation. To the right of the kitchen was a small hallway with doors to a guest room, a bathroom, and Lexy's own bedroom. On the other side of the living room was the door to her mother's room. Back to the story.

Our sleepover went pretty normally. We exchanged stories, got pizza, typical teenage girl things. Until Lexy was stricken by a brilliant thought:

"Guys, I have a Ouija board."

As soon as she mentioned it, my stomach was in knots.

"No. Lexy, I don't want to" "

It sounds awesome!"

Vivian cut me off, and I realized I really had no say in the matter.

Lexy pulled the board from her closet (I really don't remember details of what it looked like). She set it up on her bed, and ordered us to gather around it. I stubbornly planted myself in the hallway next to the bathroom.

"Courtney," Lexy called, "If you stay out there while we do this, the ghost will kill you." I was on her bed, huddled close to the board in seconds. Curse my raving paranoia.

Lexy's room lacked a main light, and was usually illuminated by a standing lamp. This was turned off, and the only light we received came from the hall light, which shed a sliver of glow through the crack in the door and only brightened a small corner of her room.

Lexy instructed Vivian and I to place our hands on the pointer. After a few moments of silence, I asked, "What are we even supposed to do?" Vivian shared a hesitant look with me. "Ask it questions?" "This is dumb." "Ask it a question!"

Taking the opportunity to lead, Lexy loudly called, "Hello, Is anyone here, Can we talk?"

Almost instantly, the pointer began to move. Vivian looked astonished, Lexy smug, and I was staring at Lexy suspiciously.

"You're moving it." I hissed.

Lexy narrowed her eyes. "I am not."

Knowing arguing would get me nowhere; I resigned myself to silent doubt.

"What's your name?" Vivian asked, her voice a trill of excitement.

F-R-A-N-K

I wrinkled my nose. "Frank. Wow."

Lexy giggled. "Frank is the worst ghost name ever."

Vivian's eyes grew wide in horror. "Shush-shush-shush! Don't piss it off."

"Well its true Frank is a dumb name! I'm not scared of Frank~." Lexy howled smugly.

I rolled my eyes. "We're all going to die."

For only ten minutes, we asked 'Frank' questions. I don't really remember any of them, but I know they were shifty and vague, and it was increasingly obvious one of us was faking the entire thing. At some point, the pointer stopped moving entirely, and we put the board away and gave up.

For the entire next morning, Lexy seemed to beg for something to happen. Every action she took, she found a way to make it ridicule Frank. I had given up on being scared and just watched her boringly. And really, nothing did happen. Until about three days later.

Lexy didn't attend school that day. Around eight at night, I got a call from her cell.

"Courtney," she began quietly. I detected a mix of excitement and worry in her voice. "Frank got mad."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! I was helping my mom in the kitchen, and all of a sudden, a wine bottle flew off the shelf and broke and cut my toe! I just got stitches."

I frowned. "Are you sure it didn't just fall?"

"No way! It was on the shelf near the living room!"

To this day, I'm really not sure if she was lying or not. Aside from the wine bottle attack, nothing much else happened in her house. But I thought it just might be worth mentioning.

(Also, because of my raving paranoia, I'm now constantly glancing over my shoulder. Thanks, Lexy. And 'Frank'.