Emma was returning home with her husband from a restaurant where they had celebrated his birthday. It was a fantastic evening with many guests, including family members and his colleagues. Emma met some of them for the first time, but if James chose to invite them, she figured it must be important.
Emma was not one to question her husband’s decisions; she disliked arguments and confrontations. It was easier for her to agree with James than to prove her point.
“Em, do you have the apartment keys handy? Can you get them out?”
Emma opened her purse, trying to find the keys. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain, and when she jerked her hand, the purse fell to the floor.
“Why are you yelling?” James asked.
“I pricked myself on something.”
“With all the clutter in your purse, I’m not surprised.”
Emma didn’t argue, picked up her purse, and carefully retrieved the keys. They entered their apartment, and she soon forgot about the incident. Her feet ached from tiredness; all she wanted was a shower and bed.
The next morning, she awoke with a sharp pain in her hand, her finger was red and swollen. Recalling the previous night, she grabbed her purse to inspect it. Carefully going through her things, she discovered a large rusty needle at the bottom.
“What is this?” she wondered, puzzled about how it got there. She discarded it in the trash and went to get the first aid kit to clean her wound. After bandaging her finger, Emma left for work. But by lunchtime, she felt feverish.
She called James:
“James, I’m not sure what’s happening, but I think I might have caught something last night. I found a large rusty needle in my purse, the same one I pricked myself on. Now I have a fever and feel awful.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor. You don’t want to risk tetanus or an infection.”
“James, stop worrying. I’ve cleaned the wound; it’ll be fine.”
Yet with each hour, Emma progressively felt worse. Barely getting through the workday, she called a taxi home, knowing public transport was not an option. Once home, she collapsed onto the couch and fell into a deep sleep.
In her dream, she saw her Grandma Anne, who had passed away when Emma was a child. Emma knew it was her despite the years. Grandma Anne, looking frail and bent over, might have frightened others, but Emma sensed she wanted to help.
Her grandmother guided her across a field, showing her herbs to gather, instructing her to brew a concoction to cleanse her body of the darkness consuming it. Grandma Anne warned that someone wished her harm, and time was short.
Emma awoke in a cold sweat, feeling as though hours had passed, but it was only minutes. She heard the front door, signaling James’ return. As she slid off the couch and went to the hallway, James gasped at the sight of her:
“What happened to you? Look in the mirror.”
Emma looked. The reflection was unrecognizable: her vibrant appearance was replaced by lank hair, dark circles, a grey complexion, and a vacant stare.
“This is nonsense,” she thought but then remembered her dream and told her husband:
“I dreamed of Grandma. She told me what I need to do…”
“Emma, get dressed; we’re going to the hospital.”
“I won’t go. Grandma said doctors wouldn’t help.”
A heated argument erupted. James called her insane, dismissing her dream. They had never fought so intensely. Enraged, he attempted to forcibly take her out when she slipped, hitting her head.
Furious, he stormed out, leaving Emma to only inform her boss that she had caught a virus and would need a few days off.
James returned near midnight, apologizing repeatedly. She simply asked:
“Could you take me to my grandmother’s village tomorrow?”
By morning, Emma resembled more of a ghost than a lively young woman. Desperate, James continued pleading:
“Em, please, let’s go to the hospital. I can’t lose you.”
But they went to the village instead, with only the village’s name as her guide. She hadn’t visited since her parents sold Grandma’s cottage after her death.
Emma slept the entire journey and, upon arrival, vaguely pointed James toward a field. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the grass but felt destined to find the herbs her grandmother had shown her in the dream. They returned home after she collected them, and James brewed the potion as she instructed. With each sip, Emma felt a little better.
When she managed to get up from the toilet, she noticed her urine was black. Instead of fear, she felt a sense of relief, echoing her grandma’s words, “The darkness is leaving.”
That night, Grandma Anne revisited her in her dreams, smiling, then explained:
Someone cast a curse on you using that rusty needle. My remedy will restore your strength, but only temporarily. You need to identify who did this and return their evil to them. Your husband is somehow involved. If you had kept the needle, I could have said more, but…
Here’s what we’ll do: go to the store, buy a pack of needles, and over the largest one, recite this chant: ‘Spirits of the night, once alive, hear me, shades of the night, reveal the truth. Surround me! Guide me, find my foe…’ Then place the needle in your husband’s bag. Whoever cursed you will prick themselves on your needle. That’s when we’ll learn their identity and can send their malice back at them.”
Grandma’s figure then dissolved like mist.
Emma woke knowing she would recover, for Grandma would help her.
James opted to stay home that day, intent on caring for her. How surprised he was when Emma insisted on visiting the store alone:
“Emma, don’t be ridiculous, you’re barely standing. Let me go with you.”
“James, I’m craving some soup. Can you cook some while I’m out?”
Following her dream’s instructions, Emma placed the enchanted needle in James’ bag that evening. Before bed, he asked:
“Are you sure you’ll manage on your own?”
“I will.”
Though Emma felt a bit better, she knew the evil was still within her, attempting to claim her. However, the herbal brew acted as a protective antidote. She anxiously awaited James’ return from work, greeting him at the door.
“How was your day?” she inquired first.
“Everything was fine, but why do you ask?”
Emma was ready to assume the culprit hadn’t acted yet when James remembered something:
“Oh, Em, you won’t believe this. Today, a colleague, Sarah, was being helpful by reaching into my bag for my office keys since my hands were full. However, she got pricked by a needle inside. She shot me a look like she wanted to kill me,” he recounted.
“What’s the deal with you two?” Emma probed.
“Em, please, you know I only love you. No other woman matters.”
“Was she at your birthday dinner?”
“Yes, she’s a dear colleague but nothing more.”
Emma’s mind pieced the puzzle together after his words. Now she understood how that rusty needle ended up in her purse.
As James went to the kitchen for dinner, Emma’s fatigue returned, and she drifted into another dream where Grandma taught her how to reverse the curse on Sarah. After that, Grandma conveyed how Sarah intended to eliminate Emma magically, to eventually take her place beside James. If thwarted once, she wouldn’t hesitate to use magic again.
Emma followed Grandma’s counsel. Soon, James mentioned Sarah called in sick, severely unwell, with doctors baffled.
Over the weekend, Emma asked James to take her to her grandmother’s village cemetery, a place she hadn’t visited since the funeral. She brought a bouquet, donned gloves to tidy up, and had difficulty locating Grandma Anne’s grave. Approaching it, she recognized the photo from her dreams, realizing Grandma’s spirit had indeed saved her. Emma cleaned the grave, set the flowers, and sat on the bench:
“Grandma, I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner. I assumed my parents’ yearly visits were sufficient. I was wrong. I’ll visit regularly now. Without you, I might not have survived this.”
In that moment, Emma felt a gentle weight on her shoulders — a reassuring touch. When she turned, she saw no one, only a soft breeze…
