Maggie Nicsuibhne's Curse

By Yehezkiel Widjaja          

December 17, 2024

Maggie NicSuibhne’s Curse

(Warning: There is a mention of self-harm and suicide as the story progresses)

In the Scottish Highlands lived Maggie NicSuibhne and her young sister, Bonnie. Maggie’s hair was black like a magpie’s; her face displayed wrinkles warding off a saint. Bonnie’s eyes were as blue as the Aegean Sea, her hair like glistening obsidian. Their bonds were indestructible and inseparable like chains. One day, as Maggie was walking through the town market to get food, she heard rumors that a Glaswegian knight was coming to visit the town. Later, at noon, she went home and told Bonnie about it. As a result, Bonnie was ecstatic. She had always dreamt of encountering a knight from urban cities like Glasgow or Edinburgh. While waiting for the knight, Maggie daydreamed about paintings she saw in Edinburgh years ago. Among them was a painting of three witches dancing around a tree with the devil playing his fiddle on a branch.

 When the clock struck three, a man in an emerald tunic riding his stead arrived in town. He stopped at a shabby white house, dismounted, and knocked on a crooked caramel door. The knight bore two bouquets of roses, each as red as royal blood. When the door opened, he saw an angelic dove and a shy raven standing at the doorway. He handed a bouquet to Maggie and the other to Bonnie. As the knight courted both of them under the dull Scottish clouds, he began to feel more fondly for the latter. At least that’s what Maggie noted. At midnight, the knight came up on his steed and shouted, “Goodbye and fare-ye-well!” to the sisters as he went home.

After the knight trotted away, Maggie’s mind slowly spawned envy as much as gladness for Bonnie.  As each cloudy day passed, Maggie’s bond with her sister weakened. At last, Bonnie decided to offer Maggie to have dinner together but was only given a “hmph.” Days went by, and the second week arrived as quickly as the devil’s fiddling. Maggie still nurtured her envy towards Bonnie. Her heart became moldy now with false affection. On Wednesday, Maggie’s mind spoke to her, rebuking her envy. From the next day to Sunday, she returned to her grouchy self. She started to have emotional meltdowns, letting herself slowly be consumed by hatred. Finally on a bright Saturday morning, Maggie awoke her sister. Bonnie arose and asked, “Dear sister, wha’ is it ye want?” Maggie, almost delightedly, requested that Bonnie would accompany her to a nearby cliff for sightseeing. The younger lassie hurriedly rushed from bed and prepared herself to go outside. 

Maggie and Bonnie held each other’s hands and journeyed to the cliff. As they walked, Bonnie spoke, “Dear Maggie, I didna expect ye tae be so happy. I’m glad tha’ ye came back to yer senses.” When they arrived, the sisters stared across the horizon and silence took place. After a while, Maggie suddenly asked, “Dear sister, dae ye ever wish tae be a mermaid? One who’s both beautiful inside and out?” Bonnie looked at her sister, cocked her head, and replied, “But I’m already beautiful, sister. I dinnae be a hideous beast tae attain beauty.” Maggie stated she could attain rare beauty by just looking at the sun rising and Bonnie obeyed, assuming her sister was teasing her. The sun shone brightly upon her, commenting on her beauty. Suddenly, however, the elder lassie pushed her poor sister off the cliff.

  When Bonnie fell into the sea, she struggled to stay afloat. Each time her head emerged, the water laughed and raised itself. Bonnie’s eyebrows heightened like mountains; her eyes bulged in fear. Alas, Bonnie couldn’t swim, only flailing her arms hopelessly. When she saw Maggie coming down the coastline, she cried out, “Sister, reach to me your hand!” But Maggie did nothing; her eyes stared into the horizon instead. She didn’t conjure a smile or a twinge of pity. The sea became stormy and the waters looked grim. There was no sense of hope; it was hell in the sea. When Maggie finally moved her gaze onto Bonnie, her eyes were soulless. Again, Bonnie pleaded with her, “Please, dear Maggie, Ah’m beggin’ ye. Ah can’t swim!” Her voice sounded frantic, tearful even. Yet Maggie hadn’t even moved a single finger. She’s a statue overlooking the choppy waves. Finally, after what felt like hours, the water grabbed Bonnie down and drowned her.

Once Maggie could no longer see Bonnie, she turned back and went home. However, every step she took conjured feelings of regret that permanently struck her. Walking through jagged paths, Maggie thought she might as well be dead by the authorities. In the house, Maggie stared at a wall and contemplated her action. For five days, Maggie went mad. She grabbed a kitchen knife and peeled her left arm like onions. Each slow skin peel made Maggie screech in burning agony. She hadn’t eaten, slept, or drank in those days. In the end, her arm appeared flayed as an insurmountable amount of blood seeped out. The rest of the four days were her blood-writing bible scriptures of peace and eternal happiness everywhere in the house. She made drawings of Christ, Mary, saints, and angels. They were meant to be comforting but looked distorted and disturbed her instead. The home no longer smelled like perfumed mahogany but the stench of iron. Maggie’s blood was for hell to take. 

In the fourth week, Maggie went to church until Sunday of the fifth week. She prayed fervently and tearfully. She lamented to Christ how woefully she regretted her selfishness and asked for penance. On the last day of her stay, Maggie prayed, “O Lord, why did Ah dae such an act of cruelty? Ah beg ye tae let my sister enter Heaven, please! Forgive me too, a sinner who worships ye and hae forsaken ye.” After confessing her guilt, she hesitantly left the church. Maggie wanted to feel a sense of comfort from her deity. She felt none. 

When she arrived home, she found a fiddle and a rope on the kitchen counter and picked them up. Maggie sprinted to a forest far from town and strolled down. Many tall trees overgrown her; some were even taller than the rest. The sky appeared green, for leaves covered the gray space. Tree barks were misty white, and the forest smelled like poppies in a meadow. Maggie stopped walking and found a small tree with a high branch. She dropped what she held and prayed, picked up her fiddle when finished, and played a lullaby while skipping around the tree. Nonetheless, nothing comforted her. When she finished playing Maggie dropped her fiddle, picked up her rope, threw it on the branch, and made a large knot. She eventually managed to place herself on the branch and took one last breath. Before a single magpie could sing, Maggie leapt off the branch. Her skin became pale like a phantom, her head crooked uncannily. Eyes displayed shock with the mouth opened. Yet, Maggie NicSuibhne couldn't scream anymore, for she had condemned herself to damnation by hanging.