top of page

The Black Magic Spell

A spell like a stray bullet, may not hit it's intended target

Quote by: Migdoel Noel Torres

I will always remember the shooting pain I got in my stomach as a child. To this day I pray to God, to protect me from that excruciating pain. I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was in second grade at PS 156 located at 104 Sutter Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11212. My father owned a three-story family building that had a store (Bodega) that he ran for years on Strauss Street.

I don't remember the address but it was between Pitkin Avenue and Sutter Avenue in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn.

I remember walking home from school and I started to feel this sharp pain in my stomach. The pain got really bad with every step I took. I lived a few blocks from school and I tried to make it home that day, but after a few more steps, I dropped to the pavement and doubled over in pain. I remember opening my eyes and seeing the cracks of the pavement an inch away, from my eyes.

From nowhere someone picked me up. It was my father who was running late to get me. He carried me home as tears ran from my face as I clutched my stomach. Once home my mother and grandmother got frantic. They rushed me to Kings County Hospital (Where I was born, by the way) and the doctor rushed me quickly to the emergency room, where they examined me and took me for all kinds of ex-rays.

I spent two whole weeks (14 days) at Kings County Hospital and although the pain had subsided a little, the doctors had no idea what was wrong with me. All tests came back

negative and the doctors scratched their heads. They knew I was in pain but had no idea why. So they decided to do exploratory surgery. They wanted to open me up to see if they could find the reason for my discomfort (Well more than that.) The night before the big operation a priest came late at night to give me what I thought were my last rights. Now what can I confess to at age 6? Well okay I wasn't such a great kid but I'm pleading the fifth now, anyway, the Father prayed for me and I knew I was going to die.

The next morning my parents came in and started to dress me. My mother was arguing with some doctors. I later found out that she was telling them that there was no way in hell that they were going to do exploratory surgery on her son.

We left the hospital and they took me to a Santera (a priestess of Santería. I've explained Santaria in a past blog.) This lady was called Giya. She was very well known and a friend of the family.

She took me to a dark room that was lit only by the candle lights that adorned her altar full of all types of ceramic saints, bible pictures, and a bible. There was food and water for the spirits too.

As my parents waited in another room she took off all my clothes. I wasn't scared but I was still in pain. I looked at her and she was dressed and looked very much like an African lady.

She was wearing a Danshiki. She was also wearing a red head scarf. She put some oils on my stomach and said some prayers. Once in a while, she would look at her alter say a prayer and start rubbing by stomach again. After a while, she dressed me and took me to the living room where my parents were waiting. I hugged my mom and she asked me how I felt. That's when I realized my stomach pain was gone. Giya called my mom to the side and explained to her that some women had sent something that was intended for her, but I got it instead. She asked her if she had received a gift or found something unusual at the house or store. My mom knew exactly what it was and so did I.

It all started when I came home from playing in the street and I found a mountain of dirt with a cross made out of palm leaves. I picked the cross up and played with it making believe it was an airplane. I remember my mother opening the door and screaming. I dropped the make-believe airplane(Cross) and my grandmother took me to wash my hands. It was a couple of days after that incident that I got gravely ill.

It turns out that the dirt was from a graveyard and the cross had a black magic spell on it. I later found out why that lady cast a spell on my mother and that's because she wanted my father for herself.

So as you can see. Voodoo, Black Magic, and Spells are real. And anyone can fall under a spell, whether they believe it or not. And unfortunately sometimes the innocent can be in the wrong place at the wrong time and just like a stray bullet, you can find yourself fighting for your life.

Featured Posts
Recent Posts
Archive
Search By Tags
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square
bottom of page