Closing the house
Angie, the neighbor, a young woman of about 18, was the one who stayed with me until my parents returned in the evening. That day I was in the garden when someone stood near me and asked me what I was doing:
"Playing with the pebbles" - I expressed and raised my face: it was a little girl very much like me who was talking to me, only she had one brown and one green eye.
"Each stone has a meaning,” she said and took a stone that was near her, ”This one, for example, is used to make wishes. This one is to give you more power,” she said, picking up another stone. As she took the stones, she told me what they were for and put them inside the plastic container I was holding in my hands.
When I returned home, with dirty hands and some of the dirt from the garden on my face, Angie asked me why I had so many stones in the container and I told her that a new friend had given them to me. Not giving it a thought, she continued watching TV, because Angie always liked to watch TV.
"That way she looks prettier",_ she stated and I agreed. We played until the sun went down and I had to go into the house. Inside, Angie was watching TV and just looked at Jacinta who had a new bow tie:
"See Jacinta's bow, Angie,"_ I said and Angie barely nodded, not looking at the doll and with her eyes on the TV.
It was about a week later that the girl told me I could use the stones to call her:
"One of the stones works to call me",_ she said and we continued playing as usual.
That same night, while I was in my room, I grabbed one of the pebbles and asked for the girl to appear and she appeared. There we played like that until the moonlight came through the window and my parents arrived. From that moment on there were no limits and every time we wanted to play, she came and we played. From the time I came home from school, until my parents came home tired at night, the little girl and I could play without Angie noticing.
"She's like my friend: she has one brown eye and one green eye",_ I said and there was silence. Then they asked me so many questions that I ended up crying. That night I had a high fever and I remember that my mother cried saying that I was going to die, that the picture was of my grandmother when I was a child and that it was impossible for that girl to play with me.
The next day the priest came and not only poured holy water on the house, he also sprinkled that blessed liquid on me. Mom also lit candles and made chalk crosses on the walls of the house: the priest, mom and Angie, who I don't know how she stopped watching TV in those days.
"Leave those stones! We should never have come here,” she said to my dad and closed the door of Grandma's house.
As we were walking out, I saw the little girl standing in the bushes outside the windows and raising her hand in greeting. I also raised my hand to say goodbye to her and at that moment I saw how the girl's hair was turning white, how her face was getting older, as if she were a grandmother rather than a child. Even though the car was moving, I stuck my face to the window and kept waving my hand in a long goodbye, because I knew I would never see her again. And that's how the house was closed again with the pebbles and the grandmother inside
All images are free of charge and the text is my own, translated in Deepl
Thank you for reading and commenting. Until a future reading, friends
Click here to read in spanish
Cerrar la casa
La primera vez que la vi, yo estaba sentada en el jardín jugando con unas piedritas y mis muñecas. Era la época en la que tuvimos que mudarnos a la casa antigua de la abuela, porque mis padres habían encontrado trabajo cerca de allí. La casa, después de la muerte de la abuela, se veía abandonada, pero servía para que viviéramos cómodos allí y mis padres no tuvieran que pagar alquiler.
Angie, la vecina, una joven de unos 18 años, era quien se quedaba conmigo hasta que mis padres regresaran por la noche. Ese día yo estaba en el jardín cuando alguien se puso cerca de mí y me preguntó qué estaba haciendo:
_Jugando con la piedritas –expresé y alcé mi rostro: era una niña muy parecida a mí la que me hablaba, solo que ella tenía un ojo marrón y otro verde.
_Cada piedra tiene un significado –dijo y tomó una piedra que estaba cerca de ella –Esta, por ejemplo, sirve para pedir deseos. Esta otra sirve para darte más poder –afirmó tomando otra piedra. A medida que iba agarrando las piedras, me decía para qué servían y las metía dentro del envase de plástico que yo llevaba en las manos.
Cuando regresé a casa, con las manos sucias y parte de la tierra del jardín en mi rostro, Angie me preguntó por qué tenía tantas piedras en el envase y le dije que una nueva amiga me las había regalado. Sin darle importancia, siguió viendo la tele, porque a Angie siempre le gustaba ver la tele.
A mí no me pareció extraño que al día siguiente, la niña volviera al jardín y jugáramos un rato a las muñecas. Ella le hizo un moño a Jacinta, mi muñeca más nueva:
_Así se ve más bonita –afirmó y yo estuve de acuerdo. Jugamos como hasta que el sol se ocultó y yo debí meterme a la casa. Adentro, Angie miraba la televisión y apenas miró a Jacinta que tenía un moño nuevo:
_Ve el moño de Jacinta, Angie –le dije y Angie apenas asintió, sin ver la muñeca y con los ojos en la tele.
Fue como a la semana que la niña me dijo que podía utilizar las piedras para llamarla:
_Una de las piedras sirve para llamarme –dijo y seguimos jugando como siempre.
Esa misma noche, mientras estaba en mi cuarto, agarré una de las piedritas y pedí que la niña apareciera y ella apareció. Allí jugamos como hasta que la luz de la luna entró por la ventana y mis padres llegaron. Desde ese momento no hubo límites y cada vez que queríamos jugar, ella venía y jugábamos. Desde que yo regresaba de la escuela, hasta que mis padres regresaban cansados por la noche, la niña y yo podíamos jugar sin que Angie se diera cuenta.
Todo hubiese seguido normal sino hubiese sido por aquel domingo que a mamá se le ocurrió sacar el álbum de la abuela. Allí entre fotografías, había la foto de una niña parecida a la que jugaba conmigo:
_Es como mi amiga: tiene un ojo marrón y otro verde –dije y hubo un silencio. Luego me hicieron tantas preguntas, que terminé llorando. Esa noche me dio mucha fiebre y recuerdo que mi mamá lloraba diciendo que iba a morirme, que la foto era de la abuela cuando era niña y que era imposible que aquella niña jugara conmigo.
Al día siguiente vino el cura y no solo le echó agua bendita a la casa, también sobre mí esparció aquel líquido bendecido. Mamá también prendió velas e hicieron cruces de tiza por las paredes de la casa: el cura, mamá y Angie que no sé cómo dejó de ver televisión por aquellos días.
A la semana recogimos todo y nos montamos en el carro porque nos cambiaríamos de casa. Cuando quise agarrar mis piedritas, mamá las tiró y dijo:
_¡Deja esas piedras! Nunca debimos venir aquí –le dijo a mi papá y cerró la puerta de la casa de la abuela.
Mientras íbamos saliendo, vi que la niña estaba entre los arbustos que salían de las ventanas y alzaba la mano en un saludo. Yo también alcé mi mano para despedirme de ella y en ese instante vi como el cabello de la niña se iba poniendo blanco, como su rostro iba envejeciendo, como si más que una niña, fuera una abuela. A pesar de que el carro estaba en marcha, yo pegué mi rostro al vidrio y seguí moviendo la mano, en un largo adiós, porque sabía que más nunca volvería a verla. Y fue así como la casa volvió a estar cerrada con las piedritas y la abuela adentro.
This was beautifully conceived, @nancybriti1. You paint a touching picture of a budding relationship between the two girls, and keep the reader wondering if this other child has something to do with the MC's grandmother. I guessed early on that the other child was the grandmother in child form but my brain works like that :-) I thoroughly enjoyed this read but I was left with questions and wanting a little more. I feel that your piece would have been even better if you had provided more insight into your MC's mother's relationship with her mother and why she was so upset about the stones. One might have thought that she would have drawn comfort from the stories and the beautiful connection between her mother and her daughter. This would have helped us to understand her internal conflict and reactions better. The story would also have benefited from further development around the magical properties of the stones. We don't get to see your MC use the stones to make wishes or gain more power, so we wonder why these specific abilities are mentioned. More dialogue between grandmother and granddaughter could have been used to good effect to wrap up the story, and to show why the grandmother was appearing to her granddaughter as a child, and keeping her identity a secret. Is she trying to make up for lost time or to heal relationships or past regrets, perhaps? Or is she just trying to keep a supernatural communication link open with her family, and sadly her own daughter does not recognise what is going on? If we knew, it would also have made for a stronger character arc.
Wow, now that I read your comment, I think I was able to get more out of the story and that there were some loose threads. I think this time two things worked for me: in my country we are suffering from power cuts and I had to make a not so long story so that I could publish on time. And the other is that in my country there is a belief that there are “goblins” that try to take children away. But now that I read your suggestions, I think I could even make a second part with this story. Thanks for the ideas, friends.
A simply magical story that tells us the natural perception of the girl and her relationship with a spirit that seems to be that of her grandmother, leaving us with a mystery. How she accepts a relationship of friendship, which for the parents is dangerous to the point of abandoning the house.
I loved reading your story @nancybriti1. It is beautifully written.
A hug ✨️
Thanks for your comment, friend! Greetings and many successes
Thank you for your appreciation, friends. Regards
This story brought tears to my eyes.