creds; thetallulahbell
I come from a long line of matriarchs. For some reason, we only give birth to girls. Generations and generations of women in my family. It's probably some weird genetic quirk, but my mother says it's part of the family curse.
The curse dates back to my great great something grandmother. She come to Australia in the time of the gold rush with my great great something grandfather looking for a better life then they left behind. They found it, too. The gold rush was good to them both and before they knew it they owned a small patch of land. Not much, really, but the panning creek went directly through the back of it. Soon, though, just after my great great something grandmother announced her first pregnancy, my great great something grandfather started gambling. And he was not good at it. One day, apparently, he lost her wedding ring in a bet. Old grand mama did not take this well. The story goes that she lead him down into the creek and drowned him. Apparently everyone in town knew it was her, but there was not enough evidence to do much about it.
Since then the women in my family have never been able to hold onto a man. They tend to marry young, fall pregnant, and then the husband will skip town. I put it down to poor life choices, personally, but my mother insists it's the curse. Granted, she is no better. My father left barely 3 months into the marriage, and has never tried to contact me. Nor do I particularly want him to. He sounds like a dead beat, to be honest. Everyone in town tells me he was, like my great great something grandfather, a gambler. And not a good one.
The funny thing is, though, that for all the supposed curse the family has we have prospered. Great great something grandmother was a very shrewd women, and once great great something grandfather was out of the way she took what little money she had left and built it into a sizable savings. She built the house we live in to this very day. The creek still runs down the back of the property and everything.
It's lovely down there, too. Technically, I am forbidden to go there, but Australia is a hot and dry place and at the age of 12 I broke that rule. I was sure at the time that the curse did not exist, and at 12 was sure of my own intelligence and immortality. I remember it clearly, going down to the creek. I had decided the night before that ghost stories where for children, and since I was not a child (I was 12 for god sake!) I would go down to the creek the very next day. I waited all day for my mother to leave. And it was very hot, and very dry.
The walk down there was pleasant enough. I remember the birds watching me. Australia has some lovely birds, very smart, too. It was the magpies I remember most, though. They have red eyes here, and they seemed particularly interested in my decent. They watched me closely was I made my way down the hill, following the small, winding path. It hadn't been walked for years, by the looks of things. The bush shrubs started to clear as I got closer to the water, and larger trees took their place. The cavass the stream passed through was cool and damp and green, and a very pleasant escape from the hot sun. It was beautiful. I have never, even to this day, seen such natural beauty.
Without hesitation, I stripped down and jumped into the water. It came up to about waist height, and did not flow fast. I expected it to be cold, but instead found it almost at body temperature. It was delightful. A wave of calm came over me and I felt at peace. Like no harm could come to me. Yet, somehow, not completely alone.
The magpies were still watching me. Suddenly I became aware that no birds were singing.
I married my childhood crush. He lived next door and I have known him almost my whole life. He was always a sweet boy. I remember he used to be so nervous around me. Shyly smiling at me on the way to school. Of course, I was nervous around him too. Not long after I took that first swim I started to notice that my feelings for him were more ... intense then they were for any of my other friends. Suddenly, I found myself tongue tied around him. We started dating at the age of 15. He was nothing but caring and supportive to me during that time. We would spend hours after school each day talking and he took great pains to ensure I was happy and thriving. Any trouble I faced, I faced it with him.
It was no surprise he grew into a smart and kind young man. So when he proposed, I felt no fear in saying yes. I would make better life choice then the women who came before me. The engagement was short, and we had a small out-doors ceremony on the property. The magpies watched.
The first year of our marriage was bliss. He continued to be a caring and supportive husband. We were a team. I was elated I fell pregnant.
After I told him the news he began to change. Suddenly, he was staying later and later at work, often coming home smelling of beer. He stopped staying up talking to me. Soon, I found our joint bank account was draining. He was gambling. Online poker. When I confronted him about it he simply stormed off. He didn't even try to hide it.
I went to my third ultra sound alone. It showed I was having a girl, and I knew what I had to do.
That night he came home late, again, smelling of beer, again. I took him down the winding path, through the scrubs and the trees and into the creek. I cooed and welcomed him into the water with me, and once again felt at peace. I held him under the water until the last bubble burst. The magpies watched.
