I still remember that awful day when A priest put this curse on me.
It was a long time ago, in our small, quiet village temple. I went there to ask for blessings because I wanted to have a baby. The priest was an old man with yellow robes and sneaky eyes that looked at me too much.
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I have started something I am not even sure anyone would read. Now here we are. Me—still writing. You—still here. I’m not backed by fame or algorithms, just pure passion… and you. So if you’re reading this, thank you. Your support doesn’t just help—it builds this journey. And every share, every comment, every cheer? It’s another “Keep going.” And I will. For you to read. Comment your darkest desires to read in the story.
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