Evenings at Naomi’s apartment became stranger and stranger. Sarah noticed troubling details: mysterious symbols drawn in chalk on the floor, quickly erased when she entered; shadows that seemed to dance on the walls, even without wind or movement; sometimes a green or purple light glowing in a corner before disappearing.
Sarah smelled burned herbs, like an unknown incense. She sometimes felt uneasy, but Naomi reassured her with a smile.
“It’s nothing. Just decoration.”
Sarah, fascinated by the gifts and attention, dismissed her doubts. She wanted to believe Naomi was a sincere friend, not a threat.
Sarah’s behavior changed. She became even more obsessed with Naomi’s objects. She spent hours looking at herself in the mirror, admiring the wig or bracelet she had received.
Those objects seemed to have a hold on her, as if they whispered to her heart, feeding her envy.
She talked only about Naomi, about her gifts, about her style. Her old friends, like Sonia, had almost disappeared from her life. Even her studies became secondary. She skipped classes to spend time with Naomi.
Naomi encouraged her.
“You deserve to be admired, Sarah. Take everything I give you.”
In the village, Mama Sarah worried more and more. During one call, Sarah sounded distracted, almost enchanted. She spoke of Naomi with an abnormal adoration.
Sensing danger, Mama Sarah consulted a friend in the village, a woman known for her intuition.
The woman told her, “Be careful. Sarah may be under the influence of someone evil.”
Mama Sarah wrote a letter to her daughter, begging her to return to the village for the holidays. But Sarah, too attached to Naomi, refused.
She did not see that she was sinking into a trap like a fly in a spider’s web.
On campus, rumors about Naomi grew. Some students said they had seen strange things near her apartment: dead birds, footprints that disappeared, whispers at night. But no one dared to confront Naomi.
Her charisma and beauty intimidated everyone.
Sarah saw none of it. She lived only for the gifts, for the admiration they brought her. Each new object strengthened her bond with Naomi, but also deepened the emptiness inside her.
She did not realize that Naomi watched her with a calculating gaze, like a predator studying its prey.
The witch knew Sarah was ready to fall into her final trap, a trap that would seal her fate.
One evening, a huge party was organized on campus. Everyone was talking about it. It was a chance to shine, to be noticed.
Sarah, always hungry for admiration, wanted to be the star of the night.
While visiting Naomi, she noticed a magnificent green wig, bright and unique, resting on a shelf. Her eyes lit up.
“Naomi, can I borrow this wig for the party?” she begged.
Naomi, with an enigmatic smile, agreed, but gave one condition.
“You can wear it, but return it to me at sunrise. Not a minute later.”
Sarah, too excited, agreed without thinking. She did not notice Naomi’s strange gaze, nor the dark glow in her eyes.
At the party, Sarah was the center of attention. The bright green wig shone under the lights and attracted every gaze. Students took photos, calling her the queen of Instagram.
Sarah danced, laughed, and savored the compliments.
She felt invincible, as if the wig gave her a magical aura. Other girls looked at her with envy, and boys surrounded her.
For the first time, Sarah felt like the one everyone admired, the one who had everything.
She spent the night posing for pictures, laughing, feeling on top of the world.
But deep down, a small voice reminded her of Naomi’s condition: return the wig at sunrise.
When the party ended, Sarah returned to Sonia’s place, exhausted but euphoric. She placed the wig on a chair and fell asleep, forgetting the promise she had made to Naomi.
At dawn, she woke with a start, realizing she had to return the wig. She ran to Naomi’s apartment, but Naomi was not there.
Relieved, Sarah thought, “I’ll return it later.”
Back in her room, she found the wig lying on her pillow, though she was sure she had left it at Naomi’s place.
A shiver ran through her, but she pushed away the fear, too attached to the object. She decided to keep it a little longer, thinking Naomi would not notice.
That night, a nightmare woke her.
She heard a whisper, as if the wig were speaking.
Trembling, she turned on the light and rushed to the mirror.
What she saw made her scream.
Her face, once smooth and young, was wrinkled and marked with deep lines. Her hair beneath the wig had turned gray and brittle. She looked as if she had aged several decades in one night.
Panicked, she tried to tear off the wig, but it seemed glued to her scalp, as if it had become part of her.
She screamed and cried, but nothing worked. The living wig seemed to mock her despair.
Sarah then understood that something terrible had happened.
She thought of Naomi, her gifts, her strange conditions.
Was it a trap?
She tried to contact Naomi, but her apartment was empty, as if no one had ever lived there. The chalk symbols, the candles, the shadows — everything now made sense.
Sarah realized she had been manipulated, that her envy had led her into horror.
She ran to Sonia, hoping for help, but her friend, seeing her aged face, stepped back in terror.
Sarah, alone and broken, understood that the wig was cursed, a trap set by Naomi.
Her obsession with other people’s things had led her to ruin, and she did not know how to escape the nightmare.
Devastated by her transformed appearance, Sarah left university and returned to the village, the cursed wig still attached to her head. Her gray hair and wrinkled face frightened the neighbors, who whispered as she passed.
When Mama Sarah saw her, she burst into tears. She held her daughter tightly and refused to judge her.
“My child, we will find a solution,” she whispered, though she was terrified.
Determined to save Sarah, she decided to take her to Mother Wayana, a respected seer who lived in a hut deep in the forest. People said Mother Wayana could break curses and speak to spirits.
Mama Sarah hoped she could free her daughter from the nightmare.
The journey to the forest was difficult. Sarah, weakened, could barely walk. The wig seemed to weigh on her like an invisible chain. The superstitious villagers avoided them, fearing a curse.
In the forest, the atmosphere was heavy. The trees whispered under a strange wind.
When they arrived at Mother Wayana’s hut, they found the old woman sitting near a fire. She observed Sarah, her piercing eyes studying the wig.
“This child touched what should not have been touched,” she said gravely.
She asked Sarah to tell the whole story: Naomi’s gifts, the wig, the party.
Mama Sarah, in tears, admitted that perhaps she had spoiled her daughter, feeding her endless envy.
Suddenly, a cold laugh echoed through the hut.
Naomi appeared, emerging from the shadows like smoke. Her face, once charming, was now terrifying, her eyes glowing with supernatural light.
“It was you, mother, who created her insatiable desire,” she said to Mama Sarah. “You taught her to always want more. Now she is mine.”
Mother Wayana trembled as she recognized the witch.
“You are an ancient one, a thief of souls!” she cried.
She ordered Sarah and her mother to run, promising to hold Naomi back.
But the witch burst into laughter, her hair floating as if moved by an invisible force.
“No one escapes my hold,” she murmured.
Mama Sarah grabbed her daughter and ran out of the hut, stumbling over roots. Naomi’s laughter followed them, echoing through the forest.
Sarah, terrified, felt the wig grip even tighter to her scalp, as if it were laughing along with Naomi.
They finally reached the village, exhausted. The neighbors, seeing their condition, called an elder to protect their house with prayers.
Sarah collapsed, staring at her reflection in a basin of water. Her wrinkled face, her tired eyes — she no longer recognized herself.
Mama Sarah, despite her fear, refused to give up. She spent the night praying, holding her daughter’s hand, hoping for a miracle.
But the damage was done.
The wig, though still attached, seemed less alive, as if Naomi had obtained what she wanted.
Sarah felt trapped in her own body, unable to become who she once was. She thought about all the times she had envied others, taken their belongings, lied to obtain what she wanted.
Was this her fault?
Mama Sarah felt guilty too. Had she raised her daughter badly? Had she fed the envy that led her to Naomi?
The night passed heavy with silence and fear. Sarah knew her life had changed forever, and that the witch, even absent, had left an indelible mark on her soul.
Back in the village, Sarah was unrecognizable.
The cursed wig, still attached to her scalp, seemed to have calmed down, but her face remained marked by deep wrinkles and strange scars. The superstitious villagers kept their distance, whispering that Sarah had offended a spirit.
Mama Sarah, desperate, refused to abandon her. She brought in a respected pastor known for powerful prayers. He organized a night of fasting and prayer in the family home, surrounded by a few brave neighbors.
Candles flickered, and songs echoed through the night.
Sarah trembled and prayed sincerely for the first time, hoping to be freed.
In the middle of the night, an icy wind swept through the house.
Naomi appeared, floating like a shadow, her eyes glowing green. The villagers stepped back in terror, but the pastor stood firm, holding up a cross.
“What do you want from this child?” he shouted.
Naomi smiled cruelly.
“I will not take her life, but her beauty is my payment. She chose envy, and envy has a price.”
Then, in a burst of mist, she vanished.
The next morning, Sarah woke with her heart pounding. The wig had fallen, lying on the floor like an empty object.
But when she looked in the mirror, she saw that her face remained marked. Her once-smooth features now carried permanent scars, and her eyes seemed extinguished.
Sarah cried for days.
Her dreams of the future — becoming an admired woman, succeeding at university, traveling — collapsed. The villagers cruelly called her the cursed girl. Some children mocked her, imitating her wrinkles with grimaces.
Broken, Sarah abandoned university. She could no longer face the eyes of others.
Mama Sarah stayed by her side every day, consoling her. But Sarah felt imprisoned by her appearance and her shame. She avoided mirrors, unable to bear her reflection.
One day, a man from the village, an older widower named Mr. Obi, proposed marriage to her. Desperate and hopeless, Sarah accepted. She left the family home to live with him, far from mocking eyes.
Her life became monotonous.
She helped Mr. Obi run his small shop, but customers stared at her and whispered about her past. Sarah felt like a shadow. Her laughter was gone. Her energy had disappeared.
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