The Weeping Statue

Farrah Vale always thought curses were for the bored and broken… something people invented when real life wasn’t cruel enough.

But lately, life had been plenty cruel.

She hadn’t slept properly for the past few days. Between her internship at St. Meryl’s clinic, her graduate papers, and the feeling that came every time she scrolled past ‘his’ number, exhaustion had become her only constant companion.

It was Shane Calder.

The name still stung every time she remembered it…

The boy who’d taught her what love felt like and what it cost.

***

“Farrah, you look like hell,” her classmate Lianne said while leaning against the clinic doorframe. “And I mean that affectionately.”

Farrah just showed a tired smile as she had already heard it several times. “Thanks, I’m going for the ‘undead med student’ aesthetic.”

Lianne shook her head at that reply. Nonetheless, she recalled the matter that had prompted her to check on her friend.

“Right... You didn’t hear? Someone scribbled your name under the Weeping Statue.”

Farrah blinked. “The what?”

“The Weeping Statue. The one in the old campus courtyard… That one with the broken face? I’m sure you heard about it… If you carve someone’s name there and offer blood, the statue grants your wish. But only if the wish is for revenge... something like that.”

Farrah snorted. “Right. And if I dance around it three times, I get a boyfriend who texts back.”

“I’m serious!” Lianne’s tone turned uneasy.

“Someone said your name’s there. Like, written in red. Maybe a prank, but… creepy timing, right?”

Farrah shrugged and forced a chuckle. “If curses were real, med school would be half-empty.”

Still, as she left the clinic that night, the words of her friend stuck with her. She couldn’t just leave it be.

‘Someone wrote my name? Did I even offend anyone?’

She couldn’t remember… But she wanted to find out if it was real!

By the time she packed up and left, the rain had started…

Her sneakers squelched against the pavement as she crossed the courtyard… She just wanted to see her name, if it was really there or she wouldn’t be able to sleep… She swiftly cut through the garden path to the parking lot.

And then she saw it.

The Weeping Statue was still there… It was taller than she remembered... But someone had cleaned the moss from its base.

In the dim light, she could see the words HELP ME carved again and again into the stone, like dozens of trembling hands had begged there.

She stepped closer, her heart thudding for reasons she couldn’t name.

And there it was… her name.

FARRAH VALE, written in what looked like dark paint… or something thicker.

Below it, smeared fingerprints, and a small puddle gone black from the rain.

She crouched and frowned after seeing it.

“Real funny, guys.”

The statue’s head seemed to have tilted downward, and its eyes were even streaked with rainwater running through the cracks. For a moment, Farrah thought she saw its lips move…

Well, it was probably a trick of the light, or her sleep-deprived mind playing games.

Still, she whispered, half-amused, half-spooked at her situation…

“If this is a curse, better luck next time. I’m too tired to die.”

She turned and walked away while the statue wept silently behind her.

***

The rain hit the windshield like a thousand small bullets.

At this time, Farrah’s vision blurred with every wiper sweep, plus her mind was heavy with exhaustion.

Twelve-hour shifts, exams, caffeine and regrets.

She tried not to think about the statue. Tried not to think about Shane, either… but that was harder.

They’d broken up almost a month ago.

One fight too many, too many words that couldn’t be unsaid. She still saw him sometimes around campus, that polite distance in his eyes.

He’d moved on, maybe. Or he was pretending better than she was…

Soon, her phone buzzed on the passenger seat.

It was a text from Lianne:

[ Don’t drive too late. The curse might get you 😈 ]

Farrah rolled her eyes and typed back as she drove slowly…

[ If I die, make sure my funeral playlist slaps. ]

She hit send, tossed the phone aside… and caught a glimpse of another unread message below it.

One from Shane. Sent three days ago.

[ Can we talk? ]

Her chest tightened. She hadn’t replied yet... Maybe she should’ve or maybe she shouldn’t.

She didn’t get to decide at all…

Then, she was blinded by headlights.

Everything happened so quickly.

She almost went deaf from the horn, before it was followed by pain…

Just like that, a flash of white swallowed her world.

Then, she knew that it was the end of her life.

But as the light faded, somewhere in the rain and ruin of her car, she thought she heard a voice whisper...

"Truth or lie, Farrah? Which one will save you now?"