Cursed Child No More My Parents Downfall

According to my mother, I was a curse made flesh. She swore the moment I entered this world, I nearly killed her with a hemorrhage so massive it soaked through three sets of sheets. She hated me for it. In the dead of winter, she would leave me outside in nothing but a thin cloth until fever burned through my tiny body like wildfire.

When my father took me to see a doctor, he slipped on black ice and shattered his leg. That accident sealed his belief. I existed for one purpose onlyto bring ruin to everyone who came near me. In his rage, he threw me into the pigpen. Let me eat swill. Let me fend for myself among the animals.

I would have frozen to death if not for Grandma.

She couldn't bear to watch me die. She scooped me up, pressed her warmth into my frozen skin, and spooned rice paste into my mouth until I was seven years old.

When it was time for me to start school, Grandma walked to town to buy me a schoolbag. On the way back, a car struck her.

She never came home.

When they found her, her fingers were still wrapped around the straps of that bag.

I wailed, my small legs pumping as fast as they could carry me toward her body. But before I could reach her, my fathereyes bloodshot, veins bulging at his templesswung his leg and kicked me to the ground.

The impact knocked the air from my lungs. Pain lanced through my ribs. A metallic tang flooded my mouth, and I coughed up a splatter of bright red blood onto the frozen dirt.

He didn't even blink.

"This is all your fault." His voice dripped venom. "You jinx. You brought this on us. Why couldn't you just die?"

Later, after the funeral, I walked alone toward the icy river at the edge of the village.

1.

Earlier that day, I had returned from the mountain with a basket full of grass. A crowd had gathered in Grandma's cramped courtyard. Every face was carved with grief.

Confusion swirled through me, but a cold pit in my stomach whispered that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

The basket slipped from my fingers. My feet moved before my mind caught up, carrying me toward the house. Faith Odell caught my arm, her grip tight.

Her eyes were rimmed with red. "Don't go in there, child. You're too little. It will only scare you."

I shoved her awaydesperation lending me strength I didn't know I hadand rushed into the main hall.

Grandma's bed had been moved to the center of the room. Lying on it was a figure soaked in blood. Barely recognizable as human.

I crept closer. The person was wearing Grandma's clothes.

My mouth fell open. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird. My gaze darted around the room, searching for her familiar silhouette.

"Where is Grandma?" My voice came out thin. Childish. "I'm scared. Grandma? Grandma!"

I shouted her name, wandering aimlessly through the crowd of mourning neighbors.

Zachary Logan stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the bed. He placed a trembling hand on my head. "Your grandma is gone, child." His Adam's apple bobbed. "That... that is your grandma lying there."

He swallowed hard. "Stop looking. Go outside. You don't want to have nightmares."

A buzzing sound filled my ears. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Even at seven, living in this house had taught me the darkness of the world. I knew what "dead" meant.

The realization hit like a physical blow.

I burst into tears and threw myself toward the bed. "Grandma, what's wrong? Wake up! Don't scare me! Grandma!"

I reached out, desperate to touch her, to shake her awake. But my father intercepted me. Hatred blazed in his eyes as his boot connected with my stomach, sending me flying backward.

"It's all because of you! You jinx! Why don't you go die?"

I was only seven. His kick shifted something inside me. I curled up on the cold floor, retching blood.

Fear made my limbs tremble. But I gathered every scrap of courage I possessed and looked up at him. "Dad... I just wanted to see Grandma. What happened to her?"

He pointed a shaking finger at me, looking as if he wanted to flay the skin from my bones.

"You have the nerve to ask?" His voice rose to a roar. "I don't know what sin I committed to father a curse like you. It wasn't enough that you almost killed me and your mother? Now you've killed your grandmother too!"

His chest heaved. "If you didn't need to go to school, she wouldn't have gone to town! She wouldn't have been on that road! If it weren't for your cursed existence, she would still be alive!"

"Even in death, she was holding that bag for you." Spittle flew from his lips. "You think you deserve school? A jinx like you? What are you going to docurse the teachers to death too?"

I looked past him to Grandma. Clutched in her stiff hand was a pink schoolbag, now stained dark with blood.

My father raised his leg to kick me again, but Zachary Logan grabbed his arm. "She's just a child! Don't say such things. Naomi Pope didn't drive that trucka drunk driver did. It has nothing to do with her. Don't take your anger out on a seven-year-old."

My mother jumped into the fray, her voice dripping with mockery. "She's only seven, and she's already brought ruin to this family. If she grows up, will her father and I even survive?"

She glared at me with pure loathing. "She is a disaster star. A curse incarnate. She specializes in destroying lives."

Her sharp gaze swung to the neighbor. "Zachary Logan, since you want to defend her so badlyfine. Her grandmother is dead. You take Naomi Pope. You raise her."

Zachary choked on his words.

Before he could respond, his daughter stepped forward, finger jabbing toward my mother. "Zhang Cuicui, what is wrong with you? Everyone in the village knows you call Naomi a jinx. And you expect my dad to raise her? Why?"

She didn't back down. "This is *your* daughter. Maybe you and your husband did something evil in a past life, and she's your retribution. Who can say?"

That hit a nerve.

My mother hated nothing more than being told I was her karma. Her face twisted in fury as she lunged forward, claws out. "You little brat! You're mocking me? Your father started running his mouth first! It's easy to talk when it's not your life being ruined!"

"I think you just came here to laugh at us! I'll tear that mouth off your face!"

She moved to strike, but my father snatched a porcelain bowl and smashed it against the floor.

*Crash!*

"Enough!" His bellow shook the walls. "Why are you making a scene? My mother is dead! If you want to fight, get the hell out!"

The room fell into resentful silence.

The bowl had shattered at my feet. A jagged shard ricocheted upward, slicing a gash across my cheek. Warm blood trickled down my face instantly.

I clamped a hand over the wound, staring at my father's ashen face. Too terrified to make a sound.

"What are you standing there for?" He snapped his gaze to me. "You cursed your grandmother to death. Get out of my sight!"

He grabbed the nearest objectthe pink schoolbagand hurled it at me. It hit my chest with a dull thud.

Tears mingled with blood as I clutched the bag. I shrank back, retreating out of the main hall.

Looking down at the crimson stains on the pink fabric, my throat tightened until I couldn't breathe.

*Actually, just this morning...*

Grandma had taken me to my parents' house. She told them I was old enough for school and asked Dad to buy me supplies.

Dad looked at me with disgust as I hid behind Grandma's legs. "What school does a jinx go to? She can stay home, cut grass, and feed the cows. Keep that unlucky thing away from me."

Grandma turned to Mom. Mom grabbed a broom and swept the dust toward Grandma's feet. "Go, go! Don't bring your bad luck to my doorstep. If her father won't buy it, why should I? Hurry up and take the jinx away."

Grandma had sighed. Defeated. She led me back to our small shack.

She held my hand, her voice gentle. "Naomi, wait at home. Grandma will go to town and get you that bag."

A smile crinkled her eyes. "And I'll buy you a lollipop. Strawberry flavor. Your favorite."

I had nodded, beaming. "Thank you, Grandma."

She hunched her back and began the slow walk toward town. I grabbed my basket and climbed the mountain to cut grass for the pigs, wanting to let her rest when she returned.

I never imagined that by the time I came back, Grandma would never open her eyes again.

Now, standing by the well, tears streamed down my face. I unzipped the bloody bag. Nestled in the corner was a strawberry lollipop.

I carefully placed the candy in my pocket. Then I took the bag to the well.

*Grandma bought this for me. I have to wash it. If it's clean, Grandma will be happy.*

I submerged the bag in the basin and began to scrub.

A heavy boot slammed into my back.

I plunged headfirst into the freezing water.

The icy winter water soaked through my thin clothes in an instant. The cold bit into my skin like a thousand needles. I couldn't stop shivering.

My father stood over me, his face twisted in a rictus of rage. A shaking finger pointed down at my wet, trembling form. "Sure enougha jinx is cold-blooded! Your grandmother died buying that for you, and you have the nerve to wash it? Do you have no conscience?"

Teeth chattering, I hugged the sodden schoolbag to my chest. "Grandma... she bought it for me. I just... I wanted to wash it clean for her."

My mother scoffed from the doorway. "A jinx has no human warmth. You only care about yourself."

She crossed her arms. "I'm telling you nowwashing it is useless. Your father and I aren't sending you to school. We aren't going to care for you, either. You can rot for all we care."

Dad kicked a small metal basin toward me. It clattered against the stones. "Since you like washing so much, fetch hot water. Go wipe your grandmother's body and change her clothes."

My eyes lit up. *I can see Grandma?*

I scrambled up, nodding frantically. "Okay. I'll go. I'll clean Grandma right now."

Aunt Faith stepped forward, blocking my path. Disbelief was etched into every line of her face as she looked at my father. "The child is too young! All that blood... it will traumatize her."

My father sneered. "She caused this evilshe has to bear it. What? You feel sorry for her? Aren't you afraid she'll curse you next?"

Fear flickered in Aunt Faith's eyes. She stepped back.

Dragging my dripping wet body, I filled a basin with hot water and staggered into the main hall.

Everyone had warned me I would be scared. But fear didn't come. Only a crushing ache that made it hard to breathe.

Grandma's face was masked in dried blood. Half of her body was a mangled mess of flesh and bone, resembling nothing like the warm woman who had raised me.

Suffocating. I was suffocating.

I dipped the towel in the water and began to wipe her face. Gently. Again and again.

The clear water turned crimson. I went to the kitchen, changed the water, and returned. I didn't count how many times I ran back and forth. I refused to stop until her face was clean.

But her body... the damage was too severe. No matter how much I wiped, the blood kept coming. The flesh was ruined.

Watching me work without flinching, my mother's revulsion grew.

"Look at her," she hissed. "She really is a monster. A normal child would be screaming. She doesn't even look scared. She's not human."

Dad spat on the floor. "Cold-blooded animal. Why would you expect her to have feelings?"

Finally, an elderly aunt couldn't watch anymore. She gently took the towel from my hand. "Naomi... you can't wipe that clean. The injury is too deep. Just help us put her clothes on."

With her help, I dressed Grandma in her burial clothes.

As the adrenaline faded, black spots danced across my vision. The room tilted. I collapsed to the floor.

When I woke up, my head was throbbing. My skin felt like it was on fire.

I was still in my wet clothes. They had dried stiff and cold against my skin, making me shiver violently. The pungent stench of manure filled my nose. A glance around confirmed itI had been thrown into the cowshed.

Panic surged. *Grandma.*

I scrambled to my feet, stumbling toward the main hall. But Grandma was gone.

The bed in the center of the room had been replaced by a heavy black coffin.

My father knelt on the floor dressed in white mourning robes, burning paper money in a brazier.

A wail tore from my throat. "Grandma! Where is she? Why is she gone? Grandma!"

*Slap!*

My father's hand struck my face, silencing me. "What are you screaming for? You cursed her to death, and you still won't let her rest?"

"Shut up!"

His roar usually turned me to stone. But today, grief was stronger than fear.

I screamed back. "I want to find Grandma! Where is she? Where did you put her?"

My mother stood up. Her fingers dug into my arm as she yanked me toward the black box. "Your grandmother is in the coffin! They nailed it shut."

Her voice was cold. Final.

"You will never see her again."

I screamed, thrashing against the hands holding me back, my small body straining toward the large wooden box. I was too short to see insideI could only cling to the rough corner of the coffin, splinters biting into my palms.

"Grandma! I want to see Grandma!"

Zachary Logan caught my arm, his grip firm but his voice patient. "Naomi, listen to me. We put Grandma in the coffin so she can rest in peace and go to Heaven. You can't disturb her now, do you understand?"

He crouched down to my level, his eyes level with mine. "If you make a scene like this, Grandma won't be able to find her way. Right now, you need to kneel and keep vigil. If she sees you being a good girl, she'll be happy."

I blinked, my eyes swollen and stinging from tears. "I want Grandma to go to Heaven. I'll be good. I'll kneel right now."

I dropped obediently to my knees on the cold earth, but before I could settle, a foot slammed into my side.

"Don't come near me!" My dad stood over me, his face twisted in disgust. "Get away. Don't you dare jinx me."

I scrambled back, kneeling silently in the dirt, keeping my distance.

The sky slowly turned from black to gray. The courtyard filled with people.

Aunt Faith bustled in carrying a tray of food and pressed a bowl into my hands. "Naomi, eat something."

I hadn't eaten all day. My body was numb, frozen to the marrow. The scent of steaming noodles made my stomach cramp with hunger. I swallowed hard, reaching out with trembling hands

Dad slapped the bowl away.

*Crash.*

Ceramic shattered. Hot soup and noodles splashed into the dirt.

"Why waste food on a jinx?" He sneered down at me. "She's not allowed to eat. She has to kneel and atone for her sins against my mother. Starve her."

I straightened my back immediately, kneeling properly. I wanted to keep vigil for Grandma. If I just kept kneeling, Grandma could go to Heaven.

But my body betrayed me. My head grew heavy. The world spun.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

When consciousness returned, it came with the sensation of being dragged across rough ground. Someone tossed me onto a pile of straw. The stench of manure filled my nose.

The cowshed.

Voices drifted in from outside.

"Naomi seems to have a high fever," a neighbor said. "It's freezing tonight. If you leave her in the cowshed, she'll die. No matter what, she's still your daughter."

Dad scoffed. "If she dies, that's her fate. My mother is dead because of her. You want me to bring that curse into my house so she can kill me too?"

"You're doing this on purpose. You're trying to kill her."

"Watch your mouth." Dad's voice turned sharp. "If you care so much, take the jinx home and raise her yourself. See how long you live."

So.

Dad really wanted me to die.

*Fine,* I thought, drifting back into the dark. *I'll go die. When Grandma goes to Heaven, I'll go with her.*

In my haze, the cold vanished. I felt warm, cozy, and safe. Grandma appeared in the darkness, smiling at me.

"Naomi," she whispered. "My poor Naomi has been wronged."

I cried, shaking my head. "Grandma, I miss you. Take me with you."

When I woke up, I wasn't in Heaven.

I was curled up against the cow's warm belly. My fever had broken, my head clear.

I crawled out of the shed just in time to see men lifting Grandma's coffin, carrying it toward the gate.

Panic seized me. I scrambled to my feet, chasing after them. "Grandma! Where are you taking her?"

Zachary Logan blocked my path. "Naomi, stop. We're taking her to be buried. She's already gone to Heaven."

I froze.

So she was really gone.

My dad glared at me, his eyes full of venom. "You little curse. You just won't die, will you? Your grandmother is deadwhy don't you go die instead?"

I opened my mouth to tell him I was planning to do exactly that, but the procession moved on.

"Let's go," someone urged. "Don't miss the auspicious hour."

I watched them disappear down the road.

Once they were gone, I turned and walked slowly toward the icy river at the edge of the village.