When You Wish Upon A Curse

1 - The Curse

1 – The Curse

                I stared at the thorn, twirling it with my fingers. It was a dark red barb the size of a pinkie-nail, the pointy part slightly hooked, mocking me, daring me to give in. Sinister little trinket. I gulped. Soon enough, it would go down my throat.

                I didn’t even know what it would be like when I was sleeping: would I be dreaming, or would I be in darkness? Would I fall asleep instantly or would it come unexpectedly? Fear of the unknown is the worst fear known to man; I, however, perceived it as an adventure. Curses aren’t meant to be pleasant, she had said…refrained from all the spitting. It was now or never.

                I sat up straighter in bed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I had prepped myself well enough – I had put on my best nightgown, a soft indigo, pinched my cheeks, and reddened my lips. Perfection was a necessity when you’re waiting to be awakened.

                Now or never, Erica. Now or never.

A strange feeling erupted in my gut as I stared at the thorn. Was it . . . Was it fear?

                No! My eyebrows scrunched into a stubborn line. What was there to fear? This was a small price to pay for my happily ever after.

                I closed my eyes and forced my breathing to steady. Trembling, my hand slowly rose to my face, thorn lightly grazing my soft lips.

                I wanted this. I could do this.

                Without another second’s worth of thought, the thorn was in my mouth.

                I reached for water but I couldn’t move my arm. I gritted my teeth and forced it to, but my extremities had a mind of their own. My whole body was paralysed.

                The barb melted in my mouth, bubbling and filling it with a thick, muddy substance. It gathered around my throat in a big clump, choking me. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. The pressure from within was overwhelming: building, boiling, ready to explode!

                The liquid had taken control.

                My eyes widened as it caught side of my hands. Black as coal. My fingernails, my arms, my legs, and I assumed the rest of me as well had looked as though it’d been scorched. The sudden burst of pain freed me of my catatonic state. I arched my back in agony and fell to the floor, convulsing.

                Large thorns the size of columns punctured my walls like giant claws ready to rip them down. They materialised out of nowhere, suddenly protruding through the ceiling and floors as well.

                I scrambled back, trying to avoid being impaled by one. Thick, meaty vines wrapped themselves around my feet, tripping me over. More and more started appearing, coiling through the air like snakes preparing to attack before whipping themselves at me.

                I was bound to the floor, wriggling helplessly under their hold. Nature had unleashed its wrath upon me, and there was nothing I could do but receive it in my thorny prison fit for a beast. The walls crumbled down, debris hitting my body repeatedly.

                I yelled, screamed, shouted . . . but there was no one to hear. Parasites and plants with teeth curled around the thorns, snapping its fangs, intertwining with each other, leaping like circus animals, crowding the room.

                Then everything stopped.

                A deadly silence was suspended in thin air, so quiet it was ear-piercing.

                Only after witnessing my room be demolished did my eyes fully close.