I Wanted His Love Forever, But The Ritual Destroyed Me

💔 I Wanted His Love Forever, But The Ritual Destroyed Me

I’m not proud of what I’m about to say, but I can’t keep carrying this burden alone.

I was never the type of woman who got attention. Men looked at me and passed, even the one I loved most. He was everything I wanted — handsome, wealthy, respected. But to him, I was invisible.

One night, a friend whispered something to me: “If you want him to love you, there are ways. Dangerous ways.” I laughed at first, but she was serious. She gave me a number of an old woman who lived near the graveyard. They called her Gogo of the Shadows.

I went.

The old woman looked straight into my eyes as if she could read every desperate thought I had. She told me, “Love is not free. If you want him to love you until death, you must give me something living.”

I thought she meant money, maybe a goat. I had no goat, but I brought a chicken. She only shook her head and said, “Not enough. It must be something that breathes your own bloodline.”

I was terrified. She wanted a piece of my family.

I refused at first. But every time I saw him with other women, my heart burned like fire. Jealousy made me blind. I returned to her hut and agreed.

That night, I sacrificed my little niece. She was only two years old. Nobody knew it was me. They said she got lost and was never found. Only I knew the truth: she was buried under the old woman’s floor, offered for my love.

The ritual worked — or so I thought.

The man who ignored me before suddenly began calling, visiting, holding me like I was his world. He spoke of marriage, he swore no other woman would ever come between us. My heart was full… but it didn’t last.

Soon, he changed. His eyes would glaze over when he looked at me, as if something else was staring from inside him. He started waking up at night, sweating, screaming, holding his chest. He said he saw a child standing at the foot of the bed, pointing at him with blood dripping from her hands.

I knew.

The child was my niece.

One night he ran out into the street, shouting that the child was chasing him. A car hit him. He died instantly.

And from that moment, my punishment began.

Every night, I hear small footsteps in my house. My pots fall on their own. My mirror cracks by itself. When I try to sleep, I feel tiny fingers pressing on my throat.

I wanted love that would last forever. Instead, I am cursed with the spirit of an innocent child who will never forgive me.

If you’re reading this, never do a love ritual. Love is not meant to be forced. If it doesn’t come naturally, leave it. Because once you try to control it with blood, you lose more than you gain.

I lost my man. I lost my soul. And now I live every day with a ghost I created.