A witch

I was a witch. Or better to say people around called me a witch.

First, plague came to our village. Many people died that year. I was the only one survived from my family. I was two years old and even did not remember those events. But some people started to hate me already. I was lucky that a pair who lost three of their own children decided to take me in. They cared about me my whole childhood, but they never really loved me. They taught me many things to do, actually - too many for one person. It was like they wanted to put into me all their wishes and desires for their own children. And of course I never could be good enough in anything I did.

And then the fire happened. Our house was totally destroyed like some others. My adoptive parents died in the fire. I was the only one to survive. Again. And the only reason for it was that I was stargazing that night... I was thirteen till then. And people started to fear me from then. No one wanted me to live with them this time. But as I could do chores and mend different things (my adoptive father taught me) people started to use me as a servant with minimum payment: usually it was just a food and some place to sleep, or worn clothes and very rarely - money. But they never allowed me to baby sit. I still was too young to live totally alone so I did not have much choice and accepted such situation.

And then there was a young man who made me believe he liked me. I was nineteen. He was one of the most handsome and cheerful young men in the village. And he was very kind to me: he shared meal with me, sometimes he helped me with tasks which required a physical strength, and he smiled at me like no one else did... I was embraced firstly, but then literally fell in love with him. With his smile and gentleness. And one night, after especially hard day, I ended in his bed. I trusted him. But the very next day, the whole village was pointing at me, and laughed at me, and called me with hurtful words. When I saw him and realized what happened, I cursed him. Very clearly and loudly. And with a lot of passion as my love turned into hate in a wink. He was frightened and it felt good to me. Of course I did not have any powers, but after several days he felt from the tree and he was dead... So now people hated me, many of them would prefer to see me dead, but no one was ready to risk their own life trying to kill me. And I made it very clear: anyone who would try to harm me in any way, will be cursed. Once more: I did not have any magic powers, but they were weak people and they were frightened with me.

Additionally, soon I was the only person in the village who knew how to heal different problems with herbs, how to make childbirth easier and no so painful and so on. During six years once per week I helped an old woman, who was local healer, and her payment always was to teach me all these things. So, when she died (because of her age, I had nothing with it), I just started to live in her house and continue her deal. It was some kind of heritage. People came to me with their problems, which I solved better than anyone else. They paid me well now: because of their fear, not because they loved me. I have lived this way for many years, until my death. I did a lot of good things, but I always was alone, never had a man, or a friend, or even a learner. Thus my vengeance was that I did not pass my knowledge to anyone else.