How my brother's fiance used black magic to make us love her.

 Some people believer in supernatural powers and others don’t .i used to belong in those who never believed in those kinda things well not anymore I bet you’re curious why?

My brother’s fiancé Claire used black magic on us. And I’ll never look at her the same way again.

From the day Jules brought Claire home, none of us liked her. Not one bit.

It wasn’t even that she did anything openly wrong. She was polite, soft-spoken, always helping to clear the dishes. But there was just… an energy around her.

Her smile was polite but tight, like she was forcing it. Her eyes never seemed to match the expression on her lips. And the way she’d go silent in the middle of conversations, staring at whoever was talking,I mean that creepy stare it made my skin crawl.

At our first family dinner, I caught my mom glaring at her from across the table. My dad kept clearing his throat like he was trying to hold back words.

And me? I tried to be the peacekeeper. But even I couldn’t help the goosebumps whenever Claire would reach out and lightly touch my arm, her fingers cold as ice.

Still, we pretended. For Jules.

My brother has always been the “golden boy” of the family—smart, charming, protective. When he told us he was serious about Claire, we bit our tongues and tried to be polite.

But behind the scenes? Oh, we were talking.

One night, after Claire and Jules left, my mom pulled me aside.. I can feel it.”

My dad chimed in, shaking his head. “She’s always watching us. Like she’s studying us.”

I agreed. There was something about the way Claire kept asking personal questions—like who we talk to, what time we go to work, which friends visit our house—that made me uneasy.

So one evening, we cornered Jules in the kitchen after dinner. and told him the truth how we really felt about Claire but he got so defensive he wouldn’t even listen after all love is blind who would blame him?

So we dropped it. For his sake.

But nothing changed how we felt.

Until it did.

It started slowly. My mom, who used to call Claire names announced one morning while we had breakfast that she was having second thoughts “I think Claire is not that bad you know we’ll be family we should change our attitude towards her”

I almost choked .

Then my dad began buying Claire gifts—perfume, scarves, even a fancy handbag. The man who complains about spending money on anything was suddenly showering Claire with presents not to add him calling her “my girl “

And me? I didn’t even realize what was going on. I started texting Claire every day. Sending her funny reels. Asking her for advice on outfits and recipes. Telling her things I’d never even told my best friends.

At first, it felt normal. Like we’d finally bonded. Like we were family.

But then I started noticing gaps in my memory. Whole conversations with Claire that I couldn’t quite recall. Moments where I’d be staring at her, feeling completely peaceful—and then snap out of it with a jolt.

The final straw came one Sunday afternoon.

I dropped my phone behind the TV cabinet. As I reached back there, my fingers brushed against something soft and cloth-like. I pulled out a small black pouch tied shut with red string.

Curiosity got the better of me. I opened it.

Inside were tiny bones, dried herbs, a pinch of what looked like ash… and a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it and nearly fainted.

It had all our names written in red ink. Mine. My mom’s. My dad’s. Even Jules’s.

My blood ran cold.

I kept quiet and pretended nothing was wrong but later showed it to my mom she couldn’t believe her eyes too and decided to show it to our pastor who said we had to pray and for claire too .

Excuse me!what ?! 

That witch should be out of our house I mean, out of our lives as soon possible but my mom refused to ever hurt my brother since he couldn’t believe anything we said ,so she decided to forget we ever saw anything.

My brother still refuses to believe us.He says we are making up stories and that Claire would never do anything like that.

My parents? They keep insisting Claire is an angel sent from heaven. My dad even told me, “Stop digging into things that don’t concern you.”

Meanwhile, I’ve been burning sage, sprinkling salt at the doors, and praying every single night. Because I know what I saw.

And I keep wondering…

Were we ever really ourselves around Claire? Or were we just puppets on her invisible strings?

So let this be a warning,  if your sister-in-law goes from “weird vibes” to “beloved family angel” overnight… go check behind your TV.