“Your entire female line is cursed,” the healer stated quietly, focusing on Veronica.
“Your great-grandmother caused you trouble: she murdered an innocent man and lost both her children and her husband. The mother of the girl who died due to her curse cursed your ancestors. Don’t waste time; your hubby is already on the verge. “Evil forces are holding him…”
The morning in the village was quiet and tranquil, with just the clucking of hens and cows breaking the silence. Matryona awoke, stretched, and reflexively ran her hand over the opposite side of the bed; the sheet was cold. Ivan was gone. Her heart plummeted with anxiety.
She hastily dressed, pulled on a scarf, and walked out into the yard. She needed to milk the cow, but her thoughts were still preoccupied with her husband. He has recently gone missing on several occasions. They went to bed together, but she awoke alone. Where does he go at night?.
Matryona entered the barn, greeted Burenka, sat down on a bench and began milking. Streams of milk were pouring into the bucket, and anxious thoughts were swarming in her head.
– Has Vanya really got another woman? Why is he sneaking around every night? It’s the second time in a week!
When the cow was milked, Matryona took the milk home and headed to the hayloft – she needed to give Burenka some fresh hay. But there she saw… Ivan. He was sleeping peacefully, cuddled up to Dasha – a young neighbor who lived without a husband.
Matryona was filled with wrath. She grabbed the pitchfork that was standing beside the wall and shouted so loudly that the window frames trembled.
– Ah, you spoiled brat! What have you done, shameless person!
Dashka shuddered as if she’d been drenched in scorching water, leaped up, and dashed out of the hayloft. Ivan merely started rubbing his eyes; he still didn’t understand what was going on. Matryona stood before him, like a thundercloud, holding a pitchfork in her hand.
“What are you doing here?” “With her?” she exclaimed, preparing to grasp both of them.
Ivan originally lied, claiming that he merely wanted to rest, but under pressure from his wife, he gave in:
– I adore Dasha, Matryona. I am going to her. I will transport her from the village. Forgive me, but I don’t want to be with you anymore. I do not love you.
Matryona’s heart fell.
– What about the children? We have six of these! What are you going to tell them?
Ivan looked aside.
– I don’t need you any more. Neither you nor they.
Matryona couldn’t let him leave. Her heart would not let her. How could she be alone? Six children, a household, and a home they constructed together. How could she give everything up? After all, they had originally envisioned a life filled with warmth and abundance. Where were the dreams now?
Ivan started to get ready. Matryona threw herself at his feet, clutching to them while screaming and imploring him to stay.
– Wake up, Vanya! Where are you going? What are we going to do without you? she sobbed, choking back tears.
The youngsters, hearing the shouts, looked out from behind the stove, unsure what had occurred.
But Ivan was adamant. He pushed his wife away and walked out. There was no pain in his eyes, only determination.
“Don’t pick on me. It’s all decided,” he said and headed towards the cart.
Matryona watched, frozen, as he harnessed the horse, loaded the things, and drove out of the yard.
“Curse you, you scoundrel! May you never know happiness!” she whispered, watching the carriage move away.
Dasha’s parents supported Matryona. Her father, Pyotr Stepanovich, violently banged his fist on the table.
– I do not have a daughter anymore! I do not want to know her. If that slut returns, I won’t even allow her past the threshold!
Matryona received support from everyone: neighbors, relatives, and friends. However, this assistance simply exacerbated the suffering. Fedka and Anyuta, the older children, were saddened by the incident and attempted to help their mother. The little ones, Mitka and Nastenka, wailed and yanked on Matryona’s hem:
– Where is Dad? When will he arrive?
Matryona massaged their heads while holding back her tears:
– He’ll come, my dears. He will undoubtedly come.
She waited three days. For three days, she hoped that Ivan would come to his senses, realize what he had done, and return. However, he never showed up.
Matryona, embarrassed and crushed by agony, determined to take the drastic measure. She put on a headscarf and went to the fortune teller, Baba Ulyana.
– Tell me, Ulyana, what to do. How can I get my hubby back? Or should the homewrecker receive what she deserves? – she said as she walked hurriedly down the uneven path.
The fortune teller lived on the outskirts, in a slanted hut overgrown with weeds. The air smelled of herbs and something ancient, almost forgotten. Matryona went inside, stepping carefully so as not to creak the floorboards.
In the darkness of the room, at a table covered with a black cloth, sat Baba Ulyana – tall, thin, with a piercing gaze.
“I know why you came,” she croaked, without even looking at Matryona. “Do you want Vanka back?”
Matryona nodded, barely holding back her tears.
– Help me, grandma. I don’t know how to live on… children without a father, I’m alone…
The fortune teller sighed deeply, took a battered leather-bound book from beneath the table, and began tracing her finger along the yellowed pages, murmuring something inaudible under her breath. Then she slowly raised her head and fixed her attention on Matryona, as if she were inspecting a soul rather than a face.
“We can get it back,” she finally murmured, her voice scratchy, “but it won’t be cheap.”
“I agree to everything,” Matryona said with dread.
Ulyana smiled softly:
– Let us see…
“I’ll do whatever you say,” Matryona nearly muttered, barely fighting back her tears. “I will give everything! Just give me Ivan back. The children do not have a father, and I am alone and without support.
The fortune teller remained silent, gazing at her intently. Then, like an old raven, she dropped her head and spoke:
– Do you know what you’re getting yourself into? We will have to turn to the Dark Forces. This is not a joke. They always take their price. And occasionally it exceeds all expectations.
Matryona swallowed convulsively and her mouth was dry.
“I’m ready,” she replied gently. “I am ready for anything. “What will they take?”
Ulyana grinned again.
– They will make a decision. Perhaps it is your life, or the souls of your children. Who knows.
Matryona shuddered but soon gathered her thoughts.
“I agree,” she replied forcefully. “But there is one more thing…” I need Dasha to leave. She’s been in this world for too long.”
Ulyana raised her eyebrow slightly.
– And why the brutality, Matryona?
“She seduced my husband!” the woman shouted. “As long as he is alive and she is alive, I will have no peace.”
“Jealousy is a grave sin,” the witch stated, “but I will not condemn you.”
Matryona noticed the hesitancy in her voice and made up her mind:
– Take my cow! She’s a good milker! I’m selling her – or simply taking her. I do not mind!
Ulyana considered for a second and nodded:
– Okay. Remember, you must complete everything down to the slightest detail. If you attempt to deceive, blame yourself. The dark forces cannot tolerate disloyalty.
“I will do everything properly,” Matryona vowed.
Ulyana rose up and went to the old chest in the hut’s corner, opening it to see a bundle of dry herbs, black feathers, and a little bone amulet.
“We’ll meet tonight, at the crossroads of three roads, when the moon is full,” she said, handing Matryona a bunch of herbs. “Bring a black rooster with you. And don’t say a word to anyone. Be as silent as a fish under ice.”
Matryona took the herbs and the amulet. A chill ran down her spine.
“I will remain silent,” she promised.
The fortune teller just waved her hand, and Matryona left.
A few hours later, wrapped in a shawl, she walked along a dark road, clutching a black rooster to her chest. The moon was shining brightly, everything was quiet around. Ulyana was already waiting for her at the crossroads – standing by an old oak tree, among strange white symbols painted right on the ground.
“Here she is,” the witch grinned. “That means she’s really ready.”
Matryona nodded. Her heart was racing as if it wanted to burst out of her chest.
“Then let’s begin,” Ulyana murmured, extending her hands and beginning to read the spell in an incomprehensible language.
A gust of wind ripped the leaves off the trees and howled in their crowns. The sky darkened, and it appeared that the air itself was saturated with a deep, suffocating gloom.
The night had only just begun… and no one knew how it would end for those Matryona wished to return… and destroy.
Ivan returned three months later. Matryona barely recognized him – thin, haggard, with dark circles under his eyes.
That night Matryona had a nightmare. She dreamed of that very crossroad. The wind tore at her hair, whistled in her ears. In the distance stood a tall figure – the face is not visible, but you can feel the piercing gaze. The figure stretches out a hand, in the palm of it – a small black stone.
“Take it,” a hoarse voice said. “This is payment. For what you returned.”
Matryona woke up in a cold sweat, her heart was beating furiously. She couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, fear gripped every cell of her body.
During the day, she pretended everything was fine: she made borscht, put the kids to bed, and smiled. However, everything inside was on fire. She had a bad feeling about things. There was unrest brewing somewhere nearby.
Dashka passed away two weeks later. She just didn’t wake up. After Ivan’s return, she stayed with her parents; her father, though enraged, forgave his errant daughter.
Ivan didn’t even attend the burial. He sat at home and stared at one point. Matryona tried to talk to him, but he pretended not to hear.
– Vanya, why are you suffering so? – she sobbed. – She really deserves to go there! God punished her for depriving her of her children. Vanechka, what’s happening to you?
He was silent. And the longer he was silent, the more frightened Matryona became…
Ivan was silent. And the longer he was silent, the stronger the feeling of fear grew in Matryona – so deep that it even felt like cold in her chest.
Veronica was racing to work; she had overslept and was now late for class. As chance would have it, a gypsy woman followed her, a dry, wrinkled old woman with piercing eyes. She followed, grasped Veronica’s hand, and spoke in a muffled voice:
– My golden one, I see sadness in your eyes and a dark shadow in your heart. Widowhood is predetermined at birth, and a curse follows you down the female line. That was true for your mother and grandma…
Veronica just snorted:
– Total rubbish! Dad murdered in an automobile accident, which was an accident. What do curses have to do with this? I don’t want your fortune telling; go to work instead!
The gypsy shook her head:
– You will remember my words, girl. You can’t escape fate. When you lose everything, then you will understand…
But Veronica didn’t believe in anything like that. She lived for today, made plans, dreamed of a family. Next to her was her beloved man – Victor, who, it seemed, would become her husband. No curses were scary to her. She considered them fiction, a way to make money on people’s naivety.
She and Vitya met at a mutual friend’s birthday party. She liked him right away – kind, reliable, with golden hands. He worked as a builder, and she was an elementary school teacher. They were different, but it was this difference that made their union harmonious.
Six months later they got married. They bought a modest house outside the city, got a dog, planted an apple orchard. Veronica loved the evenings on the porch, watching Victor work in the garden. It seemed to her – this is real happiness.
For two years, she felt confident that there was someone nearby to protect her from all dangers. However, things changed when Vitya was invited on a business trip.
“lNikusha, I believe I will agree,” he said. “Can you cope without me? I’ll make enough money for the next few years, and we’ll be fine.”
He persuaded her to end the relationship despite her objections. At the station, she hugged him hard and told him to take care of himself. He grinned, kissed her forehead, and vowed to return in a few months.
But he didn’t return. A week later, the cops contacted her. Victor died when a structure at the construction site fell.
Everything collapsed in an instant. The ground disappeared from under her feet. She couldn’t believe it. Was he really gone?
The funeral became the beginning of a new life – a life without him.
Every day the gypsy woman’s words came to mind more and more often:
– Widowhood is upon you, girl. The curse of the female line follows you…
Over time, Veronica began to be afraid to leave the house.
One day, while walking in the park, she saw the same gypsy again. She was sitting on a bench, laying out cards. Veronica wanted to pass by, but her legs stopped on their own.
– Hi… Do you remember me?
The elderly woman gently looked up.
“Hello, girl,” she replied softly.
Veronica wasn’t sure what to say. Her thoughts were jumbled, and her emotions came in waves. The gypsy understood without words.
“It’s not my fault you’re in trouble,” she told you. “I only noticed what was already written. I wanted you to be prepared. To understand that life is not always fair. To learn to cherish every moment spent with the person you love.”
“What now?” Veronica asked, holding back tears. “What should I do?”
– You must locate someone who is willing to assist. You will be unhappy if the curse is not lifted. You will bury everyone you give birth to. Only a true witch could handle this.
The sessions were helpful. The ache gradually subsided. Veronica returned to the youngsters and began to grin in class again.
Three years after Victor’s d3ath, Veronica met another man. Someone who helped her heal past scars. Someone who made her believe in love again. And they supported her in her new life.
One day, while walking in the park, Sergei suddenly stopped, took Veronica by the hand and, looking into her eyes, said:
– Veronica, I love you. Marry me.
She was taken aback. So suddenly… They had known each other for only a short time.
“Seryozha… I don’t even know what to say… You caught me by surprise,” she admitted honestly.
“Don’t rush to answer,” he smiled. “Just think about it. But I really hope you’ll say yes.”
In the evening, over a cup of tea, Veronica plucked up her courage and decided to tell him what had been weighing on her for years.
– Seryozha… There’s something you should know, – she began, nervously twirling the mug in her hands. – A couple of years ago I met a gypsy. She stopped me, said that I was cursed – to be a widow. That all the men who were near me would die young… I want to marry you, I really do… But I’m afraid.
Sergei laughed.
– Veronica, what nonsense! You are a reasonable, educated woman. It’s all superstition. Gypsies say a lot of things – just to get paid more money. Don’t think about it.
She breathed a sigh of relief. She so wanted him to be right.
– And you really don’t believe it?
“Not a drop,” he said firmly. I believe in science. And in love. And our love is greater than all rumors.”
The wedding was modest. After that, Veronica grew more relaxed. For a while, the fear subsided. Life regained color, plans became tangible, and memories of the past faded.
However, two months ago, everything changed.
A day of exams, testing, and diagnosis. Everything was usual. The following day, the doctor shrugged his shoulders:
– Perfectly healthy. Perhaps it’s just overload. Rest for a few days.
But Sergei’s condition only worsened. He was losing his strength, appetite, and interest in life. The doctors shrugged their shoulders. He asked to be buried with his mother. These comments pierced Veronica like a knife through her heart.
– Seryozhenka, don’t give up! – she cried. – You will get better, I believe in it!
And he whispered, barely holding on to the edge:
— The end is near. I can feel it. There’s not much left… Just don’t forget me, Nikusha… Come to me… more often…
Then Veronica turned to a magician – not a fortune teller, but a person who, as it seemed to her, could help. Young, serious, without pathos. He listened to her and immediately understood the essence of the problem.
“It’s in the family,” he said. “Your great-grandmother did something bad. She got involved in something she shouldn’t have. Because of one of her actions, an innocent girl died. Her mother cursed your family on the female side. Now half of your husband has already gone where the sun doesn’t shine. But I can help. If we have time.”
He gave instructions. Veronica agreed.
In the morning, Veronica arrived at the hospital. Sergey lay there pale, but he was already looking at the surroundings more calmly.
“So, how are you feeling?” She inquired, gently taking his hand.
He smiled.
– You know, I feel much better today. It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I even ate the porridge in the hospital cafeteria – and it seemed delicious!
Sergei recovered quickly. The doctors were perplexed, describing what transpired as a miracle. Two weeks later, he was sent home.
The first thing Veronica did was attend church. She had never believed in anything like that before, and considered herself an agnostic. But now, standing before the icons, she prayed. She expressed gratitude. For bringing back her lover. For granting him a second chance.
Life was slowly getting back to normal. Veronica started to smile again. And, for the first time in a long time, she felt no fear.
