- I placed my finger on the glass ring and waited.
Hey, I'm Sapphire.
Wanna hear something scary?
The following is an abridged version
of a story posted on the NoSleep Subreddit
by u/wontthinkstraight.
- [Interviewer] Thanks for agreeing to this, Sarah.
Are you comfortable?
- Yes, I am.
- [Interviewer] Okay, why don't we start with
how you're feeling right now?
- Numb, just like every other day.
It never gets easier.
- [Interviewer] I understand.
What you've been through is tough.
Why don't you take some deep breaths
and let's start at the beginning, okay?
Is that okay with you?
Let's start with Tom.
- Uh-huh, all right.
What can I say about Tom?
I really miss him, you know.
God, I really do.
It's the little things, you know?
Like when I pull some clothes from the wardrobe
and his cologne would still linger there.
Luke was the only thing that kept me going.
- [Interviewer] Luke's your son, right?
- Yeah, that's right.
It was about a year after we had him
that we found out that Tom had cancer.
He hadn't been feeling well,
but he had been putting off seeing a doctor.
There's just so much to do in those early years
starting a new life together.
The doctor said, if only he saw them sooner,
they may have detected the cancer earlier,
and it may not have spread,
and it may have been operable,
and he might still be alive.
It was hard seeing him waste away.
He was so sure that Luke was gonna be
a sports star like his dad.
He couldn't wait for Luke to be old enough
for them to throw a ball around in the yard together.
By the time Luke was old enough, though,
Tom was already too weak to even lift a ball,
let alone go outside.
He would just lie in bed all day,
too exhausted and weak to do anything.
Instead of playing sports together,
they played pen and paper games.
Luke really loved playing Hangman, though.
He loved guessing letters of silly words or phrases
his father would come up with.
And he really loved drawing that little Hangman figure.
He drew that a lot.
He was terrible at the game, but it didn't matter.
All that mattered was his dad loved playing with him too.
I would sometimes find them both asleep in bed,
covered in paper.
Tom would get tired easily,
and had this habit of dozing off.
But rather than wake his dad,
Luke would decide it was his nap time too.
He'd crawl right next to Tom
and fall asleep hugging him.
That day came when Luke woke up, but Tom didn't.
When I found them both, he was holding onto Tom,
hugging him tightly.
He was crying and pleading with his dad not to go.
"I love you dad, please don't go!
"We still haven't finished our game yet," he cried.
- [Woman] And how did Luke handle everything afterward?
- He became very quiet and sullen,
kept holding onto the paper pad
and wouldn't let it go.
I once asked him if he'd feel better
if we played Hangman like he used to with Tom.
He just shook his head.
To him, it didn't feel right
for anyone else to finish it.
- [Interviewer] But that changed, right?
Your report said--
- Yes, it changed, about four months after Tom's death.
Luke bounced back to normal.
I just thought it was because children
are more resilient, you know?
I was cleaning his room one day and found his notepad.
I flipped to the last page with that
unfinished Hangman game.
Except, he had completed it now,
and it wasn't the last game anymore.
There were dozens of pages filled with
new games of Hangman.
When Luke got home from school, I asked him about it.
He was a bit angry and a bit scared,
but he eventually said he'd tell me
if I promised not to get mad or punish him.
- [Interviewer] So, what was going on?
- His best friend at school had seen how sad Luke was
about the death of his father,
so he gave him a Ouija board.
He told Luke it was for speaking with the dead,
so now he could talk with his dad.
Luke told me he had been using it,
and has been playing Hangman with his dad ever since.
- [Interviewer] How did you react to that?
- I didn't know what to think at first.
I was skeptical, shocked, horrified, all at once.
Part of my mind was flashing warning lights saying,
"It's dangerous to be playing with spiritual forces
"we don't understand."
Another part was saying it's complete horseshit.
But all that noise was drowned out
by the only question I really cared about:
did it work?
I was desperate.
I wanted to talk to Tom again so badly
I would've given anything for a chance.
So, after Luke had gone to sleep,
I took out the Ouija board
and set it on the dining table.
I placed my finger on the glass ring and waited.
I whispered, "Are you there, Tom?
"Please let me know if you're there."
Nothing at first.
Then the ring started to move.
It moved to the "Hello" in the corner.
I gasped and let go of the ring.
I must have just sat and stared at that thing
for like an hour, as if it was possessed.
Well, I guess it was, kinda.
I placed my finger on it again.
I asked, "Is that you, Tom?"
The ring edged up to the "Yes" in the corner.
"Where did I get the scar at the back of my head?"
The scar was hidden under my hair.
No one except Tom even knew about
the accident that had created it.
"V-E-N-I-C-E."
My eyes were so wet with tears.
The impossible was happening.
It was Tom, and we were talking.
I told him I loved him and missed him so much.
My finger was still on the ring as it started moving.
"N-O-T-M-U-C-H-T-I-M-E."
What did he mean?
Was he trying to say we didn't have enough time together
before he died, or that he doesn't have much time
before he needs to go again?
"No, you left us too soon.
"Luke misses you too," I said.
"L-O-O-K-A-F-T-E-R-L-U-K-E."
"I am, and I will.
"It's been so hard without you here, you know?
"Or are you saying you've been looking after him,
"because he says you've been playing Hangman with him."
I waited for a response, but the ring didn't move.
I waited and waited, but it didn't respond
to any more questions that night.
Eventually, I went to bed.
But you know what, for the first time
for as long as I could remember,
I was actually smiling.
It may only have been a few words,
but to me, it was everything.
- [Interviewer] Did you try to contact Tom again?
- Of course I did, every day I could.
It was my obsession.
"I-M-A-L-W-A-Y-S-H-E-R-E."
We talked about Luke and how he was doing in school,
we talked about our honeymoon,
we talked about the dates we used to go on together.
We talked about anything and everything.
It was sometimes surreal.
Sometimes it was even passionate.
There are some funny ones, you know?
He once even spelled out "I watch you shower."
Another time, I told him that I didn't wanna go to sleep
because the bed seemed empty without him.
"I lie beside you when you sleep."
It was almost enough to make me go to bed.
- [Interviewer] Can we talk about what happened that day
you found Luke in his room?
- Oh, that.
Yeah, I guess.
That's what this is really all about, isn't it?
That's why you're here?
I figured we'd get to this part eventually.
- [Interviewer] If it's not too hard to talk about.
- It's fine.
I've gone through it a thousand times before
with the police, what's one more?
Like I said, I'm numb now.
It's still a blur, really.
I finished making dinner and called for Luke to come down.
He usually yells back to me to tell me he's coming,
but he didn't respond that day.
I eventually tired of yelling
and went to his room to get him.
He was lying face down on the floor.
His neck was twisted at an odd angle,
and his eyes were staring blankly at the wall.
Near one hand was his pad and pen,
and that damned cursed Ouija board near his other.
I just kept screaming his name over and over,
hoping he could hear me.
I just held him in my arms.
My baby.
My poor, precious baby.
- [Interviewer] What had happened to him?
- I was hugging tight and kissing him.
I refused to let him go, not after losing Tom.
I couldn't lose Luke too.
My eyes landed on the pad he was scribbling on.
He had been playing Hangman again.
"You were never alone.
"I am the Hangman."
I had a sickening realization
that it may not have just been Tom
that I had been communicating with.
"You were warned."
At least not after that first night.
A sharp chill began stabbing at my heart.
The last game at the bottom,
a completed drawing of the Hangman figure
scrawled beside it.
It's the last thing I remember.
Inside, I'm still screaming, you know?
I don't think it will ever end.
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Until next time, sweet dreams.