Chilling

We played the game, the horrid game    Of tricks and candles in the dark Reciting a name, a horrid name    Our hands started moving on their own We asked it questions, horrible questions    The Spirit presented a forthcoming omen We shook our heads, our foolish heads    We blew out the candles that night Suddenly the room grew cold, oh too cold    Chills were felt through out our spines Then a gash of light appeared, appeared it did    Turns out it was the fridge lay open bright One of us screamed, a hideous scream    She claimed it stank of rotten eggs One of us fainted, dramatically fainted    He claimed it was not the eggs From there we were curious, curious we all should have been!    Upon inspection, it was just spoiled milk From there we cried, a loud shared cry    Because we realized we just drank that milk! Was this the omen, the woe-filled omen?  We all thought as we touched our stomachs Was this the omen, the painful omen?              But then, who last opened the fridge? ...