THE
WITCH'S DOLL. MIRIAM
Written By - Prabir Rai Chaudhuri
© All Copyright Reserved By Prabir Rai Chaudhuri- 2023
If the creaking of a wardrobe in the heavy
silence makes you jump and then laugh, if the living dead amuse you, if you
like to be a little scared, continue...
In
the year 1750, in the forest where our friend Christine lives, there was a
cabin, a small wooden house. A witch lived there, a woman not very bad, but
very neglected. She wore a torn black dress. His fingers were deformed,
probably from rheumatism. She was said to be a healer, often with good reason.
She knew the herbs, the leaves, the plants. She knew how to make powders which
sometimes relieved the pains or illnesses of people who came to consult her in
the depths of the woods.
At the same time, around 1750 therefore, a
castle, now in ruins, still existed in the village located at the entrance to
the forest. There lived a duke and his wife, the duchess. This young couple had
an almost one-year-old boy.
One day the baby fell seriously ill. The
mother, very worried like her husband, noticed the hesitations of the
caregivers called to the little one's bedside. At that time, doctors did not
yet know much and their remedies were very poor. The child, covered in red
patches, suffered from a high fever and was sweating a lot. He no longer drank,
he no longer ate.
The Duchess wrapped her little one in a blanket
and left one morning for the forest, towards the witch's house. She took with
her a beautiful ham as payment. The healer refused the money.
When she reached the humble abode, she knocked
on the door. The old woman let her in.
- Good morning Madame la Duchess, what are your
visit worth to me?
- My child is very ill. Would you like to take
a good look? Here it is. I also bring you this ham. You will know how to make
good use of it.
"Thank you," replied the witch. Show
me this little one now.
The mother opened the blanket and put the baby
in bad shape on a table. The old woman patted the child on the face, stomach,
back, legs, then retreated to the darkest corner of her house. She grabbed a
copper container and poured different powders into it. She thus concocted a
remedy. She presented the mixture in a sachet.
- There you go, ma'am. You will put a pinch of
these herbs in each bottle of your little one. I hope he heals quickly.
The Duchess thanked her and returned to the
castle.
As soon as she got home, she prepared a bottle,
added a pinch of the healer's powder and handed the pacifier to her baby. The
little boy drank a few sips... and died in his mother's arms.
It wasn't the witch's fault.
The duke, upset by the death of his child, flew
into a very strong anger when he learned that mysterious powders had been
poured into his little boy's bottle.
He immediately left the castle on horseback,
accompanied by five of his soldiers. They crossed the forest, passing through
everything, and arrived at the house of the old woman. The duke dismounted and
with a kick opened the door of the residence.
- You killed my child. You will see how I take
my revenge. Place your hands on the table.
She complied and put her hands on the
furniture.
Then, raising his sword, the duke brought it
down forcefully, slicing both of the witch's hands at the wrist. Blood
squirted. The woman screamed. The duke sheathed his weapon and returned to the
castle with his men.
The witch died soon after and her house fell
into oblivion.
One hundred and fifty years later, around 1900,
this wooden chalet served as a refuge for hunters. Sometimes surprised by a
storm, they came to take shelter there for a while.
Then hunting is prohibited in this forest. The
barrack fell back into oblivion.
And here we are today.
Christine received Myriam at her home for a few
days. It was a real pleasure for the two friends.
We remember Miriam, this ten-year-old blind
girl as her friend. They met during other adventures that you can read. (cf:
The tower of the green lake, Christine 24; The golden statues, Christine 25;
The beast, Christine 26; The blind witness, Christine 27).
One morning, Myriam said to Christine:
-Last night, I woke up and heard a baby crying
in the woods.
-Where? asked our friend.
Myriam indicated the window and the forest with
a wave of her hand.
-But... nobody lives there, surprised
Christine. A baby was crying, you say?
-Yes, quite far from here, in this direction. I
really heard the crying of a small child.
"Strange," our friend whispered.
At lunch, the father explained to the two young
girls that there in the woods, in the direction indicated by Myriam, was an
abandoned cabin. It once served as a refuge for hunters during storms or heavy
rains. Some claimed that a witch would have lived there, a long time ago.
Christine suggested that her friend accompany
her to this house, out of curiosity.
In the afternoon, they set off through the
thickets. No path led to this cabin. On many occasions, they had to go around a
place that was too muddy, step over the trunk of a tree, avoid clumps of
brambles or nettles. They descended to the bottom of a ravine, a perilous
passage, then climbed the other side, and it was not easier. Christine helped
Myriam by shaking her hand, telling her of the obstacles.
They finally arrived in front of the abandoned
wooden house. The roof was covered with dead leaves and moss. Two small windows
without glass, but barred with a rusty metal rod, were invaded by cobwebs.
Christine noticed nothing while looking in this
chalet. It was too dark inside. She knocked. No one answered.
She insisted and the door opened ajar. They
both entered the hut.
It was empty. No rugs, no armchairs, no
furniture, no frames on the walls. Daylight streamed in through the narrow
windows and through the door, now left wide open. A blackened fireplace
occupied part of the back wall.
- Nobody lives in this house, affirmed
Christine. But maybe people came to take refuge here during the night and left,
but I would be very surprised, given the layer of dust.
"Yes, no doubt," said Myriam. It
smells musty and musty in here. I do not like it. I feel like a misfortune
here... Let's go.
The two friends left the cabin without looking
back.
In the evening, Christine insisted with her
friend.
-Tonight, if you hear the baby crying, wake me
up.
"I promise," she said immediately.
In the middle of the night, she shook
Christine, whispering in her ear:
-Wake up, wake up. Listen over there, she said,
pointing in the direction with her finger. You hear?
Our friend pricked up her ears. Yes, in the
forest, towards the cabin they had visited in the afternoon, she heard a baby
crying.
The two young girls understood that if they
wanted to be clear, they had to go to this abandoned house at night.
They are as curious and daring as you...
They dressed quickly. Christine put on the
overalls she always wears when she sets off on the trails, Myriam put on her
blue pants and her t-shirt. They put on their sneakers. They went out the
window, so as not to worry our friend's parents.
First, they walked on all fours on the ledge,
then they passed on the roof of the shed which adjoins the house. Slipping
through a skylight, they descended from beam to beam and reached the ground.
-Let's go?
-Yes, we're going, but I'm very scared, affirmed
Myriam.
"Me too," confessed Christine. Alone,
I don't know if I would dare to go there.
They walked away in the direction of the house
where the baby could be heard crying. Christine hesitated more than once,
unable to find her way in the night, but Myriam, used to the darkness, had
remembered the steps.
-It's my turn, she said, to lead you avoiding
the brambles, the clumps of nettles and showing you the tree trunks to step
over, the ravine to cross.
They reached the abandoned cabin. They listened.
No one could be heard crying. No light appeared in the cabin.
The two girls pushed open the door and entered.
It was still so empty. The dust and cobwebs were less visible in the night, but
the moon, almost full, shed silvery rays of light here and there on the floor.
Suddenly, Christine observed a faint light.
- Myriam, I see a little light on the left in
the fireplace.
Intrigued and taking her friend by the hand,
she entered the blackened space. Turning her gaze upwards, she saw a door under
which, through a crack, passed a thin ray of light.
On the left side of the fireplace was a rusty
iron ladder. This probably made it possible to reach the attic of the abandoned
house.
Christine whispered the description of the
place in her friend's ear and suggested that she follow her. She placed
Miriam's hands on the ladder but she climbed first. She reached the attic door.
She put her ear to the wood for a moment, but
she heard nothing. So she grabbed the handle and gently opened it. She put one
foot and then the other under the roof of the chalet. Myriam, who was following
her friend, in turn slipped into the low, dark room.
It wasn't quite dark there because a ray of the
moon, the one whose light could be guessed under the door, passed through a skylight
and lit up the ground.
A large armchair had its back to the girls and
right next to it was a child's cradle, an old cradle: a wooden box, with simply
curved boards underneath, to be able to rock the baby rocking it.
The two friends walked over to the little bed.
They were listening. They heard no noise in the room. Christine walked around
the armchair. It was empty. Myriam approached the cradle and cried out.
-A baby! Christine, there is a baby!
Very surprised, our friend turned to her
friend.
-Do you really see a baby?
-I swear. It only lasted for a second, like a
flash, but I saw, I who don't normally see, a baby in there.
Christine looked in turn. All she saw was a
crumpled old blanket.
-Come on, Miriam. There is no one here. Let's
go.
The two friends went back down the ladder,
reached the fireplace, then went back through the downstairs room. They closed
the door and went back through the woods, under the careful guidance of Myriam,
very proud to lead her friend by the hand.
The next morning, the two friends decided to
return to the cabin to search more thoroughly the strange and mysterious attic
discovered during the night.
When they reached the abandoned house, they
entered the downstairs room.
Just then, they heard a steady creak. It was
coming from the ceiling. As if up there, someone was gently swinging the cradle
from left to right, next to the armchair.
Silent, frightened, they listened to this
creaking that came from the attic. Joining hands, they walked to the fireplace.
-Are we going up? Christine whispered.
"If you dare, I'll follow you,"
whispered Myriam.
The two daring adventurers slowly and silently
climbed the rusty iron ladder of the fireplace. Christine firmly grasps the
doorknob. She listened again. She couldn't hear anything anymore. Neither does
Miriam. No more squeaking than baby crying.
Pushing open the door, they entered the loft.
The two young girls slowly took the few steps that led to the armchair which
had its back to them. No one in this chair. And no baby in the crib.
Christine touched the crumpled blanket. She
hinted at a shape that could be taken for that of a motionless little child who
would be hidden underneath. She pushed aside the cover carefully and discovered
a doll.
An ugly doll with big red eyes, a dirty face,
shriveled like an old apple. The hair hung down, gray, like threads of cobwebs.
She was covered with a brown dress.
-What do you see? Myriam asked, worried about
her friend's silence.
-A horror, answered Christine. I have never
seen such a naughty doll. A real witch doll.
She handed it to her friend who wanted to touch
it to understand the disgust that impressed her friend.
Myriam therefore took the witch's doll. She ran
her hand over her face, cried out, and dropped it into the cradle. But as she
fell, the doll banged her neck against the wooden ledge. At the same time,
Myriam felt a sharp pain at the base of her skull, in the nape of her neck
precisely.
-Ouch! cried the girl. Who kicks me in the
back? Who hits me? she said again insisting.
-No one hits you, affirmed Christine. There's
no one in the attic except the two of us.
-It hurts badly. As if someone had tried to
knock me out.
-It was just when you dropped the doll, exactly
when it hit the edge of the crib, that you suddenly had a terrible headache.
Come, let's take this horror with us to my parents to destroy it. Mom will give
you medicine and your headache will pass.
Christine took her friend by the hand. They
descended the ladder, after having closed the attic door, then they left the
abandoned house.
When we reached the ravine, which we had to
descend and then ascend, our two friends approached it slowly so as not to
fall.
Myriam, who wanted to hold the doll, she
squeezed it in her hands, stuck her foot in a root. She let go of the doll
trying to restore her balance and not fall. The doll fell into the ravine and
bumped into pebbles at the bottom. She bruised her shriveled forehead in three
places.
A few moments later, Myriam slipped and also
injured her forehead, three scratches that were bleeding.
The two friends were certain now. This evil
doll, bewitched, returned blow for blow to the person who struck her, the harm
done to her, even without doing it on purpose.
- Myriam, said Christine suddenly, let's
destroy this horror and quickly.
-I completely agree with you. But if we hurt
the doll, she will hurt us too.
-How to do? thought her friend. And besides, I
think it's you who must destroy it, Myriam, so that your headache and your
wound in the forehead will disappear when it is broken.
-Yes, but how to go about it so that she
doesn't take revenge on me? Suppose we break it by throwing it down a flight of
stairs, for example, then I risk falling and breaking my arms and legs.
-You're right. Agree with you, resumed
Christine. You have to look for another way or else protect yourself thoroughly
during the operation. Maybe you could throw it in the water, tied it to a big
rock and drown it and you'd quickly get away from the edge of the lake.
-She could cause me to slip in the tub tonight
and pass out to death. And I won't dare go swimming with you in the river
again...
-Listen to me, Miriam. You inspire me with a
good idea. I suggest you take this doll and go to the lake, which is a two-hour
walk from here. There I will gather dead branches on a large flat stone and
light a fire. You will put on your jersey. When the fire has made a carpet of
burning embers, you will place them since you perceive the heat, you will throw
the doll into the flames. I'll take you straight to the edge of the lake. You
will dive into it and you will stay in the water. So the doll can neither take
revenge nor reach you. When she is reduced to ashes, she will be able to do
nothing more to you, and you will be delivered from this horrible curse.
- Good idea, rejoices Myriam. We do that,
Christine. Let's risk. Alright and above all, I trust you.
In the afternoon, the two friends left for the
lake, taking a backpack with them. A long walk during which they remained
silent, impressed by the terrible game they were about to play. They held
hands. Myriam carried the doll.
When they reached the edge of the lake,
Christine gathered some wood. She struck a match and made a fire on a large
flat stone. When the embers appeared numerous, she proposed to her friend to
put on a bathing suit... and to throw the doll into the flames.
Myriam hesitated for a last moment, then threw
the doll. Christine immediately led her friend into the water of the lake. She
plunged into it up to her neck.
Our friend came back to watch the fire. The
doll was burning slowly.
Suddenly, in an instant, the sky was covered
with dark clouds. A flash crossed the sky. The two young girls had not expected
this. The lightning was in danger of striking Myriam, who was immersed in the
water of the lake, but whose head protruded above the surface to breathe.
The witch counterattacked. Christine thought
for a quarter of a second, jumped into the water fully dressed and took her
friend in her arms.
-What's going on? Miriam wondered.
- I hold you close to me and I stay by your
side. I haven't done anything to this doll, so she can't hurt me. If I hold you
in my arms, the lightning cannot reach you because falling on you, it would
hurt me or kill me at the same time as you.
The two friends waited bravely in the water.
The storm was unleashed with incredible violence. Lightning struck the trees by
the lake ten times. The cold, tight rain fell like a shower.
Then, little by little, the elements calmed
down and the clouds disappeared. The sun returned to the blue sky.
Christine pulled herself out of the water and
rushed to the fire. The storm had extinguished it. The doll had burned, but
unfortunately not completely. There remained the head and the eyes. They seemed
to be staring at our friend. Myriam got out of the lake in her turn and sat
down. She was shivering.
Christine walked away, found some dry branches
under the fir trees and dragged them back. She manages to relight the fire.
So, Myriam, courageously, took what was left of
the doll and put everything on the embers. It ignited immediately.
Our two friends slipped back into the water.
Suddenly, Christine, who was facing her friend,
saw a huge dragon's head appear on the surface of the water. This dragon opened
its mouth. He was about to spit flames.
Christine made a shield with her body, placing
herself between her friend and the dragon with incredible courage.
The dragon smoked through its nose, through its
ears, through its mouth. His terrifying eyes threatened the girl but couldn't
do anything to her. Gradually, the huge head was consumed and disappeared in
the waves. The friends came out of the water again.
Evil can do nothing against sincere friendship
and true bravery.
The doll this time had burned completely, even
the head, but there remained the eyes, intact in the embers. Porcelain eyes.
Christine grabbed a stick and rolled them
towards her. She handed them to Myriam who took them in hand.
"Put them on that flat stone at your
feet," her friend suggested. I will give you a big rock and you will
definitely destroy them by crushing them.
When Myriam took her eyes in her hands, she
exclaimed:
-Christine! I see the blue sky. And there, a
bird flies above the tall fir trees. Oh, flowers... How beautiful! Oh! my
friend, now I see you...
Myriam only knew her friend's face by touching
it with her hands.
-Your long braids, your brown eyes. Oh! my
friend.
Moved, they threw themselves into each other's
arms.
-Myriam, murmured Christine, with a sorry
voice, we must destroy the eyes of the witch. It's still a trap.
-If I break them, cried the young girl, I will
be blind again. But I don't want to spend my whole life holding witch eyes in
my hands. I don't want to see the world through the eyes of a witch. It's hard,
but I will destroy them. Otherwise, sooner or later, they will bring me bad
luck.
Tears were streaming down the girl's cheeks.
- Yes, it's decided. I will, Christine. But you
can't imagine how painful it is not to see.
Yet she rested both eyes on the flat stone.
One last time, she looked around her. The blue
of the sky, the green of the trees, the yellow, the red, the orange of the
flowers, the color of the flames, the face of her friend.
Then she grabbed a large pebble and threw it
forcefully at the two eyes at her feet. They burst. A little greenish juice
squirted over both girls. They rushed into the water to get rid of it.
Then Christine took her friend by the hand and
they returned, after extinguishing the fire, to the house where they were expected.
Miriam was crying. Blind again. The witch's
doll had managed to do her the worst harm imaginable, restore her sight for a
moment and then take it away.
