Seven months pregnant, I agreed to house-sit for my brother and his wife while they vacationed. One afternoon, I stumbled across three mysterious trash bags in the basement. What I found inside made me run for my life and haunts me to this day.
“Run, faster, faster, Celina,” a voice screamed in my head as I stumbled through the dense woods behind my brother’s mansion. Seven months pregnant, I gasped for air, one hand clutching my swollen belly, the other pushing away branches that scratched at my face…
The next bus stop was just beyond these trees. How could I have been so blind? So trusting?
I glanced down at my trembling hands, sticky with drying blood. Wiping them on my dress, I whispered, “We’re safe, my baby. We’re safe. Someone will get us home.”
It all started two weeks ago…
I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through my phone when it buzzed with an incoming call. My brother Victor’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hey, big bro! What’s up?” I answered, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension that had been building between us lately.
“Celina! How’s my favorite sister?” Victor’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Listen, I’ve got a huge favor to ask. Anne and I are heading out of town for a week. A friend’s wedding plus a little vacation. Any chance you or Paul could house-sit for us?”
Before I could respond, I heard rustling and then my sister-in-law Anne’s voice came on the line.
“Oh, Celina, you’ll love staying here! Don’t worry about a thing, sweetie. The house practically runs itself.”
I hesitated, thinking about the cold shoulder Anne had been giving me lately.
Our relationship had become increasingly strained over the past year, ever since Paul’s business took off and our financial situation improved dramatically.
Meanwhile, Victor had faced a string of failed ventures, and I could see the toll it was taking on him and Anne.
The last straw seemed to be my pregnancy announcement. While the rest of the family had been overjoyed, Anne’s reaction was lukewarm at best.
She didn’t even bother to show up for the gender reveal party, citing being “too busy” when I called to ask why she’d missed it.
I knew it was a lie. Anne and Victor had been trying for years to conceive, with no success due to some health issues she faced. My easy pregnancy seemed to be salt in her wounds.
There was also the incident last month when Anne hosted a party to celebrate Victor finally landing a big contract. Paul and I weren’t invited, and when I politely confronted her about it later, she brushed it off with a flimsy excuse about “limited space.”
The hurt and confusion I felt then still lingered.
But now, here she was, asking me to house-sit. Was this her way of extending an olive branch? Maybe she was finally ready to move past her jealousy and resentment.
Despite my reservations, I found myself wanting to believe that this could be a turning point in our relationship.
“Sure, I’d be happy to,” I said, hope creeping into my voice. “When do you need me?”
“Morning, eight, yeah?”
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
As I hung up, my husband Paul walked in, his brow furrowing as he took in my expression.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
I explained the situation, watching as concern clouded his features.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked gently. “Things have been tense with Anne lately.”
I sighed, rubbing my belly absently. “I know, but maybe this is her way of trying to patch things up? Besides, it might be nice to get away for a bit before the baby comes.”
Paul didn’t look convinced, his brow furrowing with worry.
“I wish I could join you, but I’ve got those crucial client meetings all week,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Are you absolutely sure about this, darling?”
I nodded, trying to project more confidence than I felt. “It’ll be fine, honey. I can handle it.”
Paul didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”
I leaned in, kissing him softly. “I promise. I’ll be fine.”
The following morning, I stood outside Victor and Anne’s mansion, waving goodbye to Paul as he drove away after dropping me.
My brother and sister-in-law emerged, suitcases in hand.
“Celina!” Victor swept me into a gentle hug, keeping a distance from my bulging belly. “Thanks again for doing this. We really appreciate it.”
Anne’s smile seemed forced as she air-kissed my cheek.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, her voice overly sweet. “Everything you need is inside. We’ve got to run to the airport. Have a great week, darling!”
And just like that, they were gone, leaving me alone in the massive house.
I wandered from room to room, feeling oddly out of place.
My phone buzzed with a text from Paul: “Miss you already. Call if you need anything. Love you both. 😘”
I smiled, replying quickly before settling onto the couch. As night fell, the house seemed to grow larger and emptier.
The taxidermied animals on the walls seemed to stare back at me, intensifying the feeling that I was being watched.
Three days passed in a blur of Netflix binges and long naps.
On the fourth morning, I decided to be a little productive. After my daily call with Paul, I cleaned the kitchen and headed to the basement to check on the furnace.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes fell on three large garbage bags tucked in a corner.
“Weird,” I muttered. “Anne must’ve forgotten to take these out.”
I snapped a quick picture, sending it to her with a joking message: “Forgot something? Don’t worry, I’ve got trash duty covered!😉”
Seconds later, my phone exploded with notifications. A text from Anne read: “DON’T TOUCH THEM! SERIOUSLY, GET OUT OF OUR BASEMENT! NOW.”
Before I could process her reaction, she called.
I answered, confused. “Anne? What’s wrong?”
“Celina, listen to me,” she hissed. “Get out of the basement. Now. Don’t look in those bags. Just go upstairs and pretend you never saw them.”
“But—”
“Just Go. Please.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, backing away. “I’m leaving now.”
I hung up, my heart pounding. What could possibly be in those bags that would make Anne react like that?
Despite every instinct screaming at me to run, curiosity won out.
I approached the nearest bag, my hands shaking as I untied the knot.
As I pulled it open, the bag tore and the contents spilled out onto the floor. The moment my eyes registered what lay before me, my blood turned to ice in my veins.
Ritual tools. Decayed chicken bones and feathers. And voodoo dolls. Dozens of crude, handmade dolls, each bearing a photo of MY FACE. Many were stained with a dark, reddish-brown substance and reeked of rot. The stench of decay filled the air, making my stomach churn.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, stumbling backward. “Oh my God, oh my God. This can’t be—”
I fumbled for my phone, dialing Paul with trembling fingers.
“Baby,” I choked out when he answered. “I need you to come get me. Now.”
“Celina, breathe,” Paul’s voice crackled through the speaker. “What happened?”
I tried to explain between gasps, my words tumbling out in a panicked jumble.
“Bags in the basement… voodoo dolls with my face… blood… Paul, I think Anne’s been trying to curse our baby!”
“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered. “Okay, listen to me. Get out of that house right now. Don’t wait for me, just go to the bus stop on the main road. I’m on my way.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I raced up the stairs, pausing only to grab my purse before bolting out the front door. The woods behind the house offered a shortcut to the road, and I plunged in without hesitation.
Branches whipped at my face as I ran, my pregnant belly making it hard to maneuver. I could hear my ragged breathing, punctuated by the snapping of twigs beneath my feet.
Finally, I burst out onto the road, the bus stop just a few yards away. I collapsed onto the bench, gulping in air, my hands and clothes smeared with dirt and blood from my frantic flight through the woods.
Paul’s car screeched to a halt in front of me minutes later. He leapt out, rushing to my side. “Celina! Are you okay? The baby?”
I nodded weakly, allowing him to help me into the car. As we sped away, I recounted everything I’d seen in a shaky voice.
Paul’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted them,” he muttered. “Especially not Anne. The way she’s been acting lately…”
“I can’t believe she’d do this,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “My own sister-in-law… how could she hate me this much?”
Paul reached over, squeezing my hand. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, let’s just get you home and safe.”
The next few days passed in a haze of fear and disbelief.
Anne called repeatedly, but Paul insisted I shouldn’t speak to her until Victor returned. When they finally got back from their trip, I steeled myself for the confrontation.
We met at a neutral location, a quiet café downtown. Victor looked confused and concerned as I recounted what I’d found, while Anne’s face cycled through shock, anger, and finally, defeat.
“Is this true?” Victor demanded, turning to his wife. “Have you been… what, practicing witchcraft against my sister?”
Anne’s shoulders slumped. “I… I was jealous,” she whispered. “Your sister got everything so easily… the perfect husband, the thriving business, the baby. I just wanted what she had.”
Victor recoiled in horror. “This is insane, Anne. You need help.”
“I’m so sorry,” Anne sobbed, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, shaking my head.
“Sorry isn’t enough. You tried to hurt my baby. I can never forgive that.”
In the weeks that followed, our family splintered. Victor filed for divorce, unable to reconcile with Anne’s actions. My parents were devastated, torn between their children and the shocking betrayal.
As for me, I struggled to shake off the fear and paranoia that had taken root. Every unexplained noise, every twinge in my belly sent me into a panic.
Paul was my rock, holding me through tearful nights and accompanying me to every doctor’s appointment to ensure our baby was healthy.
Slowly, life began to normalize. But as I sat in our nursery, folding tiny onesies and dreaming of the future, I couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of unease.
My phone buzzed with a text from a friend: “How are you holding up?”
I typed out a response, trying to put my jumbled thoughts into words: “Still processing everything. It’s hard to believe someone so close could betray us like that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: don’t blindly trust someone just because you know them. Terror can strike from unexpected places, even from those closest to you. Stay safe out there.🙏🏻”
I set down my phone, resting a hand on my belly. Our daughter kicked, strong and healthy despite everything. “We’re okay, little one,” I whispered. “We always will be.”
Taylor Swift Apologizes to Fans: ‘I Didn’t Know Endorsing Kamala Would Be Such a Buzzkill’
Pop sensation Taylor Swift publicly apologized to her followers, acknowledging that she had greatly miscalculated the backlash following her recent endorsement of Vice President Kamala Harris. The move has left both Swifties and political junkies stunned. Given her previous vocal political positions, Swift’s statement that surprised many was, “I didn’t know endorsing Kamala would be such a buzzkill.” Swift appears to be discovering the hard way that combining politics and music doesn’t always make for a harmonious blend.
Swift has positioned herself as a supporter of women’s rights, LGBTQ+ equality, and social justice for many years. Some have praised and others have attacked her progressive credentials, but up until now, she has been able to successfully negotiate the turbulent waters of public opinion without alienating her audience. Swift is already rushing to repair significant damage after it seems that a sizable portion of her fan base is offended by her recent support of Kamala Harris for president.
With a well-meaning Instagram post, it all began. In keeping with her trademark approach, which included tasteful wording, subdued lighting, and a picture-perfect cup of coffee in the background, Taylor Swift backed Kamala Harris, hailing the vice president as a “champion for women and justice.”
Swift said, “I believe in Kamala Harris,” pleading with her millions of fans to back the vice presidential candidate in the next election. As predicted, the post received millions of likes in a matter of hours. However, Swift was unprepared for the storm of criticism that followed, which came from her own followers.
Fans who were dissatisfied, incensed, and even heartbroken promptly left comments. One fan wrote, “When I became a Swiftie, I didn’t sign up for politics.” One more person said, “I adore your music, but this? This is excessive.
Some were less forgiving of Swift, even as many applauded her for utilizing her position to push for change. It turns out that some of Taylor’s followers were not happy with her endorsement, and they expressed their disapproval. Swift felt as though her ideal PR opportunity had vanished out of the blue.
Swift, who is normally so poised and collected, seems taken aback by the ferocity of the criticism. Thus, in an attempt to right the wrong, the singer released a self-aware and regretful statement.
“I apologize, everyone, I really had no idea that supporting Kamala would be such a downer,” Swift said in a video that was uploaded to her Instagram story. “I believed that everyone here shared our commitment to justice for everyone, women supporting women, and other positive ideas. However, I suppose that wasn’t what everyone wanted to hear from me.
Despite being playful and informal, the apology was obviously an attempt to win back some of the supporters she had offended with her political post. Although Swift is adamant about her support for Harris, she conceded that not everyone looks to her for political analysis. Swift remarked, seeming bashful, “You come to me for empowerment anthems, breakups, and love songs.” “I understand. I went too far.
Some fans were understanding of Swift’s effort to heal the rift, but others weren’t as kind. One former admirer wrote, “Too little, too late,” and said that Swift’s apology seemed “disingenuous.” Nevertheless, a lot of people applauded the pop singer for admitting her discomfort and trying to make apologies.
The apology itself seems to add further fuel to the flames. Swifties, who have always taken great satisfaction in their steadfast devotion to the singer, discovered that they might be divided into two groups: those who welcomed her apology and others who thought she had betrayed them by entering the political sphere through their beloved music.
One devoted follower said, “I’m glad Taylor’s owning up to her mistake.” She is human, and everybody make mistakes occasionally. She is still one of the greatest artists of all time, regardless of this.
For some, though, Swift’s apology fell short. Another admirer who has since stopped following Swift on social media stated, “She can apologize all she wants, but she’s lost me.” “I just want to listen to her music and not have to hear about politics.”
Swift’s apologies appeared to some to be an attempt to retrace her steps without completely withdrawing her support. Swift has made it apparent that she still supports Kamala Harris, despite the fact that she is now aware of the negative effects of her political stance. Swift declared, “I’m not withdrawing my support for Kamala.” But I apologize if it caused discomfort for a few of you. I never intended to do that.
Swift is hardly new to controversy, but it seems that this most recent incident has caused her to consider the difficult balancing act between her career as a pop singer and her advocacy for political causes. She apologized, acknowledging that she might have miscalculated the desire for political endorsements among her audience.
Swift stated, “Maybe I should keep in mind that not everyone comes to me for that. I’ve always believed in standing up for what I believe in.” It’s acceptable if some of you just want to groove to “Shake It Off.” I swear I’ll resume creating the songs you enjoy.
Swift is obviously attempting to balance upholding her morals with admitting that she might have gone too far in fusing her private life with her public persona. She said, “I’ll definitely think twice before making a political post again.” “I never want to cause alienation among my fans.”
What next steps does Taylor Swift take? Although it’s unlikely that this incident will have a major negative impact on Swift’s career, it’s obvious that she has gained important insight into the dangers of combining politics with entertainment. Swift’s apology may be a step in the right direction toward striking a balance between her private convictions and her public persona as a global pop icon in a world where every action made by celebrities is closely watched and analyzed by the public and the media.
Swift is getting back to what she does best for the time being: music. She hinted that the universal themes of love, heartbreak, and self-discovery would take center stage on her upcoming album instead of the challenges facing the entire world. She chuckled, “I think we all need a break from the heavy stuff.” “I swear, my next album will not feature any political content at all.”
It remains to be seen whether Taylor Swift’s apology can heal the split with her fan base, but one thing is certain: she is back in damage control mode and eager to put the politics behind her and focus on her music, which is what initially made her a success.
Ultimately, Swift may have needed to tell her most devoted Swifties that her endorsement of Kamala Harris was a “buzzkill” for them. After all, even famous pop stars occasionally misjudge the situation.
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