I did not want to go. It was a bad idea to begin with. I didn't agree and I was hesitant. But I did. I looked to my boyfriend for suggestions. Both of us usually stayed indoors but I wanted to shake things up, do something crazy. I wanted to play with a Ouija board. It was stupid. My friend said it would be great. So I did.

We made the board ourselves. The words straight not curved, our first mistake. It's said that the curved lettering helps keep the spirits in the board. We took it to a graveyard, our second mistake. There, we talked to a little girl, a boy who drowned, twins and a few more age old ghosts. We weren't satisfied with our flickering tealights and with the wind howling. We wanted something more. We ended up inviting something more.

That's how we ended up at the doors to the theater. A well told tale among students where we would find the spirit of Nordica. My boyfriend did not want to go. My friend did. It was midnight. At a fool-hearted attempt at bravery I went in, my boyfriend followed. We dimmed the lights, we weren't allowed in, let alone to play some stupid game. We sat cross legged on the stage our fingers pressed against the homemade planchette.

"Are you here?" The words echoed. Wind howled against the windows and our own tealights seemed to flutter in the cold breeze. Our fingers were dragged to yes. I began to feel the familiar chill of my youth. I could see in my peripheral darkness began to take shape. I wrote it off. If it was ignored, it could not grow. Yet it grew.

Our session ticked by, questions were asked and my friend began to draw on something darker.

"Are you the woman in my closet?" I growled at that my friend looking intently at the homemade board. The hairs on my body stood up. I could feel the darkness take a humanoid form. Looking out into the audience, I could feel the creature begin to fill space.

A woman hunched her shoulders falling forward. Her black dress pulled taut over her chest a veil wrapped tightly around her head obscuring any prominent features. There was something bone chilling when you began to look at Death. All instincts began to scream, RUN, I didn't. This entity began to disappear and reappear at different parts of the room. The more my friend talked, the more our words began to connect her to the real world.

She began to solidify her connection to us, the board and the building. Her darkness seeping into the room darkening the already dim lights. Her presence oozing into the space around us like water, brushing up against our skin and clothes weighing us down.

I wasn't the only one feeling it. My boyfriend, a skeptic, began feeling the chill of the woman in black. Her spindly arms trying to touch the white aura he surrounded himself with. His lack of belief in the supernatural could've been used to combat any malicious entities. His skepticism could have been used to sever the strings my friend and I had created. Yet, he faltered. His natural barrier to the spirit world corrupted. And, as we stood all three of us held the fear of the woman in black in our hearts. Our fear would continue for the next few months. Unable to mention her. Scared for what she had planned.