My Sister Got Married and Divorced Eight Times

My sister, Shirley Bacon, was just thirty years old this year and had been married eight times.

It was not that she divorced her eight husbands, but her every husband had been taken away by death.

Every time before her wedding, she consulted a fortune teller, who always looked troubled upon seeing her.

The straightforward ones said, "You are destined to bring misfortune to your husbands. Marriage will lead to disaster. You shouldn't harm others."

The more tactful ones said, "This isn't your true match. You will only find stability after sixty. Better wait."

But Shirley, though she consulted, never listened.

And now, she was preparing for her ninth marriage.

I prayed this man had a stronger fate.

1

When Shirley was eighteen, she was set to marry her first husband and consulted a fortune teller before the wedding.

The old lady, looking at the Tarot, shook her head. "Dear, you are destined to bring misfortune to your husbands. If you marry, it won't last a year."

Shirley came back furious, calling the woman a fraud.

She and her first husband had known each other since childhood. How could it be possible that their marriage wouldn't last a year?

Our family didn't believe it either.

But who would have thought, ten months later, her husband drowned while swimming in the lake in the village.

Shirley refused to believe she was cursed.

We didn't want to believe it either, thinking it was just a coincidence.

That lake claimed lives every year, and her husband died because he was reckless. We couldn't entirely blame Shirley, could we?

So two years later, Shirley got married again.

Before the wedding, she had another consult, and the fortune teller again said they wouldn't last a year.

Though Shirley didn't believe it, she couldn't help but feel anxious, living cautiously.

Her second husband was a truck driver, often traveling long distances.

That year, Shirley didn't dare let him go far. They rented out the truck and kept him close to home.

They lived on tenterhooks for a year, finally reaching the last day.

Shirley excitedly told me, "I knew that fortune teller was a fraud. See, we're almost at a year!

"Bart went to buy a cake. Once he's back, I won't let him out, just to prove that fraud wrong and stop the gossiping!"

Shirley was beaming, and I also thought the fortune teller had exaggerated.

Just as she finished speaking, we heard a commotion outside.

It turned out that as her husband was approaching the house, a truck veered off the road, crushing him to death.

The blood mixed with the white cream from the cake, a scene I would never forget.

This incident didn't just shock our family but the entire village, cementing Shirley's reputation for bringing misfortune to her husbands.