Ironic Much?

Some may say it's ironic that I'm calling my grandmother's ghost to get myself out of an alien world I never belonged in.

I clutch the Oujij Board that I got from the store of The Ancients with my grubby scavenger hands. My denim pinafore is also from The Ancients Shop but it has lost it's flare as it aged, and ripped from years of living in the streets under the new, shining, electronic city, 'Electrodreios'.

Original name. It's ironic that we still take from words the Greeks, Latins and Egyptians used. I was the only individual to take an 'Advanced Learning Ancient Ancient History CourseStudy'. The creatures at school called "Freak, Freak!" whenever they saw me. It figures. They can have their own opinions anyway.

I gave up halfway in that course when my brother died. And so the breadwinner of my home went to the Underworld.

Now I set up the Board and inhale more of the deep purple incense that I had lit for the 'Calling Ritual'. The incense clears my mind, but at the same time, is choking me, and making my insides burn.

"Intro Mortuum. Tolle meam. Enter death. Raise me up. Intro mortuum."

Suddenly the room becomes bright and clear, though I have my eyes shut tight. The past is rushed from my mind as a grey mist fills the air; and I am no longer aware of the alleyway surroundings. "Dido Pearl Shakespeare..." I hear a voice call through the mist. Have I entered into the Realm of The Dead or Unknown?

The End

3 comments about this story Feed