From a young age, I could peer into people’s minds, and even feel their bodies’ conditions, with just a single touch. This was both a blessing and a curse, for with this ability came the power to heal them of mental and physical ailments at the cost of my own. The side-effects were temporary: sometimes, I would be rendered immobile for days, other times, I would remain bedridden for weeks. My parents were initially against my willingness to heal anyone who needed it, saying I was being too selfless, but the pain was worth it to see them feeling better again. Being in a small town, word of my deeds spread swiftly and it wasn’t long before both medical professionals and religious zealots joined forces against the one whom they saw as a common enemy. They threatened my family and me on numerous occasions and even spread rumours that I was a witch working with the devil—that I was making deals for people’s souls without their knowledge. If it were just me, I could’ve cared less, but their ...
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