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New Jersey, 1996, 3:33am

She wakes with a start

Then hears a sound like something out of a horror film

When she turns

The surprise catches her off guard

She always thought she would scream in a moment like this

But only a tiny gasp escapes

And then she is frozen

There,

Three feet away

Stands something

Like an antelope on hind legs

Head cocked

Staring

Moonlight glistens on its glowing orbs of eyes

It doesn't move

Or make a sound

Her heart pounds like a jackhammer in her chest

She holds very still

And stares back

Finally she finds her voice:

“What do you want from me?”

It does not speak

But the thoughts enter her mind like being read a foreboding script:

You want to pack your house

Move away from here

You must not do it

If you do, something terrible will happen

Terrible

Terrible

Terrible

Terrible




My parents met, married, and started their family while living in New York City in the early 90s. In 1995, they moved to New Jersey for a job. My mom disliked living in New Jersey so much that after less than a year, she began encouraging my dad to look for other jobs in any other state. She was delighted when he was offered a job across the country but woke up in the middle of the night with a deep dread and unease about making the move. She felt as though something terrible would happen if they relocated. However, her disdain for living in New Jersey overpowered her fear, and they moved anyway.


In high school, I began to experience a bad luck streak with relationships—both with friendships and romantic relationships. My mom confessed her premonition from all those years ago to me. She said she had always wondered how it would manifest and believed my recent streak of conflicts might be it. This story stuck with me as new situations of conflict arose in my life over the following decade. I was often left with the feeling that something bad happening again was inevitable: I was cursed, and this was how my cursed life was destined to unfold.


I used my mom’s story as the basis to create a folk narrative. I begin this narrative with the poem “New Jersey, 1996, 3:33am,” in which my mom is visited in the middle of the night by a part-human, part-animal creature that delivers a prophecy to her telling her not to move.