The healer said, “Your entire female line is cursed,” focused on Veronica.
The murder of an innocent man by your great-grandmother cost her children and spouse. The cursed girl’s mother cursed your forefathers. Don’t delay—your husband is about to explode. He is being held by evil powers.
The village’s morning was peaceful, with just chickens and cows clucking. Awoke, stretched, and automatically ran her hand over the cool sheet on the other side of the bed. Ivan left. Her heart sank with worry.
She quickly dressed, applied a scarf, and entered the yard. She needed to milk the cow, but her spouse was on her mind. He has been absent multiple times. They slept together yet she woke up alone. He goes where at night.
Matryona greeted Burenka, sat on a seat, and milked in the barn. Her brain was full with nervous thoughts as milk poured into the pail.
Park bench
Are you sure Vanya has another woman? He sneaks around every night—why? Second time in a week!
After milking the cow, Matryona went home and to the hayloft to give Burenka more hay. However, she spotted Ivan. Cuddling with Dasha, a young neighbor without a spouse, he slept happily.
Matryona raged. She grabbed the pitchfork beside the wall and roared, shaking the window frames.
You pampered brat! What did you do, shameless person?
Dashka sprang up and ran out of the hayloft, shuddering like she’d been soaked with boiling water. Without understanding what was happening, Ivan just rubbed his eyes. Matryona had a pitchfork and stood before him like a thundercloud.
“Why are you here?“With her?”“She exclaimed, bracing to grab them.
Ivan lied about wanting to relax, but his wife persuaded him:
I love Dasha, Matryona. Going to her. I’ll take her from village. Sorry, but I don’t want to be with you. Not loving you.
Her heart sank.
– What about kids? Six of these! What will you tell them?
And Ivan glanced away.
No longer need for you. Not you or them.
Matryona wouldn’t let him go. Her heart forbade it. How could she be alone? Six kids, a household, and a home they built. How could she give up everything? After all, they wanted a warm, abundant existence. Now where were dreams?
Ivan prepared. Matryona threw herself at his feet, screaming and pleading for him to remain.
Wake up, Vanya! You heading where? Where would we be without you? She cried, holding back tears.
Hearing the yells, the kids peered out from behind the stove, confused.
But Ivan insisted. He shoved his wife out and left. His eyes showed resolve, not agony.
Don’t pick on me. He said, “It’s decided,” and proceeded to the cart.
Matryona stared, motionless, as he hitched the horse, loaded the items, and left the yard.
Scoundrel, curse you! May happiness never come!She muttered as the carriage drove away.
Mom and dad backed Matryona. Pyotr Stepanovich, her father, forcefully hit the table.
No daughter anymore! I’m against knowing her. I won’t let that harlot past the door if she returns!
Family, friends, and neighbors supported Matryona. This aid just made things worse. The elder children, Fedka and Anyuta, were grieved and tried to help their mother. Little Mitka and Nastenka sobbed and pulled on Matryona’s hem:
– Dad where? When will he arrive?
While fighting back tears, Matryona caressed their heads:
He’ll arrive, ladies. His arrival is assured.
She waited 3 days. She prayed for three days that Ivan would realize his mistake and return. He never arrived.
Matryona, humiliated and in pain, took severe action. She visited Baba Ulyana wearing a headscarf.
Ulyana, advise me. How to get my husband back? Does the housewrecker earn her due? Her words came as she ran along the rocky route.
The fortune teller resided in a weed-covered tilted shack on the edge. Herbs and an old, almost forgotten scent filled the air. Matryona entered gently to avoid creaking the flooring.
In the dark room, tall, skinny Baba Ulyana sat at a black-clothed table with a penetrating glance.
“I know why you came,” she croaked, ignoring Matryona. Do you want Vanka back?”
Almost crying, Matryona nodded.
Help me, granny. I’m struggling to raise children without a father and feel alone.
Sighing, the fortune teller withdrew a tattered leather-bound book from under the table and traced her finger down the yellowed pages, mumbling something inaudible. She gently lifted her head and examined Matryona like a soul rather than a face.
She said, “We can get it back,” her voice hoarse. “But it won’t be cheap.”
“I agree to everything,” Matryona lamented.
Ulyana smiled softly:
Let’s see…
“I’ll do whatever you say,” Matryona nearly murmured, crying. I’ll offer everything! Please return Ivan. My children have no father, and I am alone and unsupported.
The fortune teller stared at her silently. She lowered her head and spoke like an old raven:
What are you getting into? We must face the Dark Forces. Not a joke. Take their price constantly. Sometimes it exceeds expectations.
The convulsive swallow left Matryona’s mouth dry.
She said, “I’m ready,” gently. I can handle anything. “What will they take?”
Ulyana grinned again.
They’ll decide. It might be your life or your kids’ souls. Who knows.
Matryona shivered but calmed down.
Woman with horse sideways
“I agree,” she said firmly. “One more thing…“ Dasha must depart. She’s been here too long.”
Lady Ulyana lifted an eyebrow.
Why the harshness, Matryona?
“She seduced my husband!The woman yelled. “I will have no peace as long as he and she are alive.”
“Jealousy is a grave sin,” the witch said, “but I will not condemn you.”
Matryona saw her hesitation in her voice and decided:
Take my cow! She milks well! I’m selling or taking her. No problem!
Ulyana paused and nodded:
– Okay. The smallest details must be completed. If you lie, blame yourself. The evil forces hate disloyalty.
“I will do everything properly,” Matryona promised.
Ulyana stood and opened the ancient box in the hut’s corner, finding dried herbs, black feathers, and a bone amulet.
“We’ll meet tonight, at the crossroads of three roads, when the moon is full,” she told Matryona, handing her medicines. Bring a black rooster. Not speak to anyone. Stay quiet like a fish under ice.”
Matryona took medicines and amulet. A cold went down her spine.
“I will remain silent,” she said.
Matryona departed when the fate teller waved.
She carried a black rooster on a dark road a few hours later, covered in a shawl. There was silence and a beautiful moon. Ulyana was waiting for her at the crossroads, behind an ancient oak tree with odd white markings painted on the ground.
“Here she is,” the witch smiled. That implies she’s ready.”
Matryona nods. Her heart was beating like it wanted to explode.
“Then let’s begin,” Ulyana muttered, extending her hands and reading the spell in an unintelligible tongue.
Wind plucked leaves from trees and howled in their tops. The sky grew gloomy, and the air seemed to be suffocating.
No one knew how the night would end for those Matryona wanted to return and destroy.
Ivan returned 3 months later. Matryona scarcely recognized him—thin, weary, with heavy bags under his eyes.
A nightmare plagued Matryona that night. She envisioned that crossroads. Wind ripped her hair and whistled in her ears. An imposing figure stood in the distance, its face hidden but its stare penetrating. The figure holds a little black stone in its palm.
A harsh voice said, “Take it.” This is payment. For your return.”
A chilly sweat and a racing heart roused Matryona. She couldn’t sleep for a while, terrified.
She smiled, prepared borscht, and put the kids to bed throughout the day. However, everything within burned. She got a horrible feeling. Unrest was developing close.
Dashka died two weeks later. Nothing woke her. After Ivan returned, she stayed with her parents, who forgave her despite his anger.
Not even Ivan attended the burial. He sat at home staring. When Matryona spoke to him, he feigned not to hear.
Why are you hurting, Vanya? – she cried. She deserves it! She was chastised by God for losing her children. What’s wrong, Vanechka?
He was quiet. Matryona felt increasingly worried as he remained silent.
Ivan remained mute. The longer he was silent, the deeper Matryona’s terror grew, until it felt icy in her chest.
Overslept and late for class, Veronica rushed to work. A dry, wrinkled gypsy woman with piercing eyes followed her by coincidence. She followed, took Veronica’s hand, and whispered:
– My golden one, your eyes are sad and your heart is black. Birth assures widowhood and a curse on the female line. That was true for your mother and grandmother.
Veronica snorted:
Absolute garbage! Dad killed in an accident-related car crash. Where do curses fit in? Do your job instead of fortune telling!
Gypsy shook her head:
Girl, you’ll remember my words. You can’t avoid fate. Losing everything will help you realize…
However, Veronica didn’t believe that. She valued today, planned, and envisioned a family. Next to her stood Victor, her adored and potential husband. No obscenities scared her. She thought them fiction, profiting from inexperience.
She met Vitya at a friend’s birthday celebration. She loved him immediately—kind, loyal, golden hands. Her husband built, and she taught elementary school. Their differences made their partnership harmonious.
Six months later, they married. They bought a little house outside the city, got a dog, and planted an apple orchard. On the porch, Veronica enjoyed watching Victor cultivate in the evenings. She thought this was happiness.
Cute blonde and redhead Caucasian girls holding disco ball at pajama party in balloon-filled room. Celebration of happiness and emotions.
She believed someone would shield her from all hazards for two years. Things changed when Vitya was invited on a work vacation.
“Nikusha, I think I will agree,” he said. “Can you survive without me? I’ll make enough for the next few years, and we’ll be fine.”
He convinced her to break up despite her concerns. He was hugged tightly and instructed to take care of himself at the station. He smiled, kissed her forehead, and promised to return in a few months.
He never returned. Police called her a week later. A building site structure toppled and killed Victor.
Everything crashed instantly. She lost her footing. Unbelievable, she thought. Was he gone?
His funeral started a new life without him.
Gypsy woman’s remarks come to mind more and more every day:
Girl, widowhood awaits. A curse of the female line pursues you…
Over time, Veronica became scared to leave the house.
When wandering in the park, she noticed the gypsy again. She laid out cards on a bench. Veronica tried to pass, but her legs halted.
Do you remember me?
The old woman glanced up softly.
She said, “Hello, girl,” quietly.
What to say, Veronica felt unsure. Her thoughts were scattered and her emotions wavered. Gypsy comprehended nonverbally.
“It’s not my fault you’re in trouble,” she said. “I only noticed what was written. I wanted you ready. Being aware that life is unfair. To appreciate every minute with your partner.”
“What now?Asks Veronica, fighting back tears. What should I do?”
Find someone eager to help. You’ll be sad without the curse lifted. Every child you have will be buried. A real witch could handle this.
The sessions helped. The pain eased. Veronica smiled again in class with the kids.
Veronica met another man three years after Victor died. Someone who healed her wounds. Someone who restored her faith in love. They helped her in her new life.
On a park walk, Sergei stopped, took Veronica by the hand, and looked into her eyes:
I adore you, Veronica. Marry me.
She was surprised. Suddenly, they had only known one other briefly.
“Seryozha, you surprised me… I don’t know what to say,” she confessed.
He said, “Don’t rush to answer,” smiling. Think about it. I truly hope you agree.”
Veronica summoned the guts to tell him what had been bothering her for years over tea in the evening.
As she anxiously twirled the mug, Seryozha said, “There’s something you should know.” Two years ago, I met a gypsy. She stopped me and said I was cursed to be widowed. I want to marry you, but I’m worried all the guys around me will die young.
Sergei chuckled.
What nonsense, Veronica! A sensible, well-educated woman. Pure superstition. To get paid more, gipsies speak a lot. Avoid thinking about it.
Relaxed, she sighed. She really sought his rightness.
You don’t believe it?
“Not a drop,” he insisted. I trust science. In love. And our love surpasses all rumors.”
The wedding was small. After that, Veronica relaxed. Fear subsided temporarily. Life returned to color, plans materialized, and memories vanished.
But two months ago, everything changed.
A day of tests and diagnoses. Everything was normal. The doctor shrugged the next day:
In perfect health. It might be overload. Rest a few days.
Sergei’s health worsened. His strength, hunger, and interest were fading. Doctors shrugged. He requested burial with his mother. Veronica felt stabbed by these remarks.
Don’t quit, Seryozhenka! She wept. I believe in your recovery!
He murmured, barely hanging on:
The end is approaching. I feel it. Come to me more regularly, Nikusha, as there is little left.
Veronica then sought advice from a magician, not a fortune teller. Young, earnest, pathos-free. He listened to her and comprehended the issue quickly.
He answered, “It’s in the family. You great-grandmother did wrong. She did something wrong. One of her deeds killed an innocent girl. Her mother cursed your female family. Half of your husband is gone. I can assist. If time permits.”
Instructions were given. Veronica concurred.
In the morning, Veronica arrived at the hospital. Sergey lay pallid, but he was already glancing about calmer.
What’s your mood?She asked, softly grasping his hand.
He grinned.
I feel considerably better today. My shoulders feel lighter. I tried the oatmeal in the hospital cafeteria—it was amazing!
Sergei immediately recovered. Doctors were confused, calling it a miracle. He went home two weeks later.
Church was Veronica’s first stop. She’d never believed in anything like that and was agnostic. In front of the icons, she prayed. She showed thanks. For returning her sweetheart. For giving him another opportunity.
Things were slowly returning to normal. Veronica grinned again. First time in a while, she felt no dread.
