Ouija (COMPLETED)(South Park) {DamienxPip}

Chapter 1| Ouija Board

You don't realise how quiet your house can be without your parents until they're gone. They went on a small holiday to England exactly a day ago, and will perhaps be back within a week. I do have contact details. Food isn't an issue.

The real issue is... I'm bored. And lonely.

I sigh, turning the page of the book resting in my lap; a hardback copy of Of Mice and Men. Even though I have read it around four times, it still makes me tear up.

I realise that it's getting extremely boring to reread the scene in Crooks' room for the fifth time, and I stand up. Only, I forget to place the book back onto the pile with the others. The book tumbles from my lap, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Gasping, I rescue the novella, holding it close to my chest.

"I'm so sorry! Such brilliant literature should be treated with intense care!" Cradling the hardback, I gently place it  atop the growing stack of books at the bottom of my bed.

I sigh in relief and smile down at the literature, feeling a sense of relief wash over me that the copy is now safe. Tucking an escaped strand of hair behind my ear, I pull up my socks, readjust my attire and leave my bedroom.

Still bored and still lonely, I walk to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind me, I face the mirror. A reflection with shoulder length blonde hair, bright blue eyes, framed by thick eyelashes, and rosy pink cheeks stares back at me. I glare at my reflection, pulling a face. 

Sticking out my tongue and crossing my eyes, I attempt to look crazy. I succeed. With immense satisfaction, I move onto a different expression.

My eyes shine. I stick out my bottom lip in a pout. Sighing, my expression morphs back to my normal one.

"Why do I look like a girl?" I ask myself, picking up a few strands of my hair between my forefinger and thumb. "I should look like a man."

I drop the hair, stick out my chest and press my arms to my sides in a stiff pose. I then give my reflection a stern look, attempting to look like a rugby player and not a pageant girl.

I fail and sigh, walking out of the bathroom. Still bored, I decide to skip. I skip into the spare room, twirling and humming to a random tune as I do so. I enter the room piled with boxes, and start to root through them.

Old baby clothes, shoes.

I put those to one side, not caring about them. Then, I root through another box, taking out some old books. I carefully place them down, and then find a bear.

Old and pink. With a faded blue bow and beady, black eyes. It smells damp, dusty. I place it next to the books. It belonged to my mother and she's kept it for all these years.

I then find a different book: a photo album. I open it to a random page, and there's a picture of me. Big blue eyes and fluffy blonde hair. I turn the page. There's a picture of me with my mother. From the picture, it's very clear where I got my blue irises.

Through flicking through the book in boredom, a picture falls from the pages. It's Estella. I smile at the thought of her. She resides in London, and (from the last time she messaged me) is modelling. I easily understand how; she has a very proportionate face and a great figure. In the picture, she's  glaring at the person behind the camera. Her blonde hair is twisted up in a bun, her cheeks pink.

I smile, placing the photo back into the album and returning everything to the box. I stand up, place the box back in its right place and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.

Walking past my room and the bathroom, I enter my parents' room. It's tidy and smells of mother's perfume. I sit down on the bed, and fall back, staring up at the ceiling.