Sasha was born
in water; a small and delicate angel, weighing seven pounds. She was quiet
child and did not cry when the midwife pulled her out of her mother’s womb. Wisps of white hair crowned her head as the other midwife cradled her. She suckled on her finger as she was being wiped down; one could not help but sigh at her angel face. Anya was born in blood; a squirmish child with red hair; she was
a strong baby and weighed eight pounds. She did not even need a pat on her back
to aid her in her first breath. Her cries did not wake her sister; instead
Sasha quietly lay on the moist sheets as Anya was laid beside her. But the
birth was not yet done. A third sister was born after, blue and unmoving. The mother
cradled the lifeless baby and cried. With a kiss on its forehead, she handed it
to the midwife’s assistant and reached out to her other babies. With the grief
of having lost a daughter, and the exhaustion of giving birth to three, the
mother slept with her two babies on her breast. She never woke again.
The third sister
was brought downstairs as the midwife announced the results of the birth. The father,
raged at the loss of his wife and of having no son, threw the blue baby out.
The tragedy of
the house did not end there. When the sisters had opened their eyes, the father
grew mad with rage when he discovered their blue eyes. He and his dead wife did
not possess this trait. He threw the midwives and the babies out of his house
and set out to search for the true father of the babies. He never returned.
The house was
cleaned out and a new tenant moved in; a witch, the only person who could
remove the curse hanging above the house, and there she cared for her daughter.
The curse of the father and the mother, of Sasha and Anya, and of the blue baby
were forgotten. Their names were never uttered again, and the town moved on
like nothing ever happened.