My tongue was paralyzed. I stared down at my glass of iced tea, only now becoming aware that my pants were soaked through with condensation.
As I came back to reality, I met Magda’s eye and said “Thank you so much Magda. I cannot tell you how glad I am that you walked up to my door today and shared your story with me. “
Magda, her eyes soft and kind replied, “Honey, just promise me you will take the measures I told you about.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” I said.
Magda shuffled toward the open door, her hand trembling as she clutched her cane. “Bye dear. You take care of yourself,” she said as she walked out of my life as quickly as she had come in.
I just couldn’t believe that thirty minutes ago my life was somewhat normal, and now I felt as though my brain was twisted in some ungodly yoga move. Had Magda not come into my life, approaching my door at that moment, my family could have been dead or worse.
The story Magda told me was ghastly, making my skin crawl right off the bone.
She had grown up in this house. The very house I sat in now, that I was raising my family in.
Here is her story as she told it to me:
When I was a fourteen and my sister Analese was seven, things took a tragic turn. I was in charge of watching her in the evening while my father worked and my mother tended our baby brother. Analese had been having nightmares, so she was fighting me about going to bed. I managed to get her to bed despite her tantrums, and told her in my most concerned sisterly voice that everything would be fine.
In the middle of the night, I heard Analese scream. It was the type of scream that pierced through your soul and stopped your heart with fear. I ran, my parents ran, we all joined in the hall. We looked like pinballs, hurling ourselves in every direction to reach her room. One of us flung open the door and we all stumbled in.
Our little Analese was suspended in mid-air, hovering like a ghost. Her white gown was spattered with blood, shimmering like the brightest red poinsettia. There were no wounds except for two slight holes, placed with care on her neck.
Coroners determined her death to be murder, but we all knew better.
Then the unspeakable happened. On the day she was to be buried, there was no body. It had mysteriously disappeared.
My mind flashed suddenly to all of the nightmares my five year old daughter had been experiencing. I spent countless hours telling her everything would be ok, bad dreams are normal, just close your eyes and go to sleep.
All I could think of now was my daughters face, turned pale, neck dripping blood.
God, I prayed, please let this house sell, and fast.