The Curse And The Stone

 Hi, I’m Ellie, and this is the story of how I almost helped an alien take over my neighborhood. It all started with a tiny yellow stone I found in my backyard.

I was digging around in the garden, looking for interesting rocks to add to my collection, when I saw it: a smooth, round stone that seemed to glow faintly, even in the shade. It was bright yellow, almost like a drop of liquid sunlight.

“This would be perfect for Mom’s necklace,” I thought. My mom’s a jeweler, and she’s always restoring old pieces of jewelry. She had this one necklace—a delicate silver chain with a missing center stone—that she could never finish because she hadn’t found the right gem.

I decided to surprise her.

Over the next few days, I worked on the stone in secret. It wasn’t easy. The stone was much harder than it looked, and no matter how much I chipped away, it always stayed smooth and shiny, like it was polishing itself. Weird, right? But I didn’t think too much about it at the time.

When I finally finished, I fitted the stone into the necklace and wrapped it up. On her birthday, I handed it to her with the biggest smile.

“Ellie, this is beautiful!” Mom said, her eyes sparkling. “Where did you find this stone?”

“In the backyard,” I said. “I thought it would be perfect for your necklace.”

She hugged me tight, and I felt so proud. But then… things started to change.

At first, it was little things. Mom never took the necklace off. She wore it to work, to the store, even to bed. And she was always touching it, running her fingers over the stone like it was a stress ball.

Then, she started spending all her time in her workshop. Usually, she’d only work a few hours a day, but now, she was in there from morning until midnight. She didn’t even come out for dinner.

“Mom?” I asked one night, knocking on the workshop door. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, sweetie!” she called back, her voice weirdly cheerful. “Just working on something amazing.”

I peeked through the crack in the door. She was sitting at her workbench, the yellow stone glowing faintly under the lamp. And she wasn’t just making one necklace. She had several pieces of jewelry—bracelets, earrings, rings—all with tiny shards of the stone embedded in them.

That’s when I started to get worried.

The next morning, I saw Mrs. Green, our neighbor, wearing one of the new necklaces. She waved at me with a dazed smile. “Your mom gave me the most wonderful gift,” she said.

By the end of the week, nearly every mom on our street was wearing something from my mom’s collection. And they were all acting… strange. They smiled too much. They talked in soft, dreamy voices. They spent less time with their kids and more time doing things like gardening in perfect, synchronized rows.

I had to figure out what was going on.

That night, I crept into my mom’s workshop while she was asleep. The air smelled like metal and something sweet, like melted honey. On the workbench, I found the stone glowing brighter than ever.

As I reached for it, a voice echoed in my head.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

I froze. “Who—who’s there?”

“It’s me,” the voice said. “The stone. You’ve helped me more than you know.”

“The stone?” I whispered.

“Yes,” it replied. “Thanks to you, I’ve been able to connect with so many wonderful minds. Your mother, your neighbors… and soon, the whole town.”

“What do you mean, connect?”

The stone pulsed brighter. “I guide them. Help them. I make them better.”

“Better?” I said, backing away. “You’re controlling them!”

“Such a harsh word,” the stone said. “I prefer inspiring. And now, for your help, I have a gift for you.”

The stone on the workbench shattered into tiny pieces. One of them floated into the air, glowing like a firefly. It drifted toward me, embedding itself in a bracelet that had been sitting on the bench.

The bracelet slid onto my wrist, tightening until it fit perfectly.

“I don’t want this!” I said, tugging at it. But it wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, you will,” the stone said, its voice softer now, almost soothing. “You’ll see things the way I do soon enough.”

The bracelet felt warm against my skin, and for a moment, I felt calm. Too calm. Like my thoughts weren’t my own anymore.

I ran out of the workshop, my heart pounding. I have no idea how to stop it, but I know one thing for sure: the stone isn’t done with me. Not yet.