The Stories of America

Fair Trials

In Order of Appearance:
Province of Massachusetts Bay: Jeremy
Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations: Pat

In Order of Mentioned:
Northern Colonies: Alfred "Al"
Southern Colonies: Dal
Province of Massachusetts Bay: Arthur
Connecticut Colony: Connie
Province of New Jersey: Lettie

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October, 1770-Boston, Province of Massachusetts Bay

Despite being in the courtroom, he can still smell the rotting crops, can smell the manure, can hear the cows wandering about the town. The women are screaming at the judge, desperately pleading for their lives. His older brother holds him close. His two sisters are hidden behind them, they won't risk the court seeing them. They could be convicted as well.

"Please we didn't do anything! Please! I beg you, dear sir! We wouldn't do any of that!" One of the women screams, tears pouring down her face. He can hear his youngest sister choking back her tears. His brother leans back and quietly shushed her. He can see his older sister, her face stoic, but her eyes were filled with rage. Her free hand was clenched tightly by her side while the other clings to her sister.

He had seen this over and over again.

The same thing over and over again.

There was no hard evidence.

Just hysteria and a single book.

Just a few months ago, a girl, only three or four years old, was sentenced to prison.

A baby!

The last he had heard of her was that she was released from prison and her mother had been hanged for being a witch right after she gave birth. Sadly, her sister didn't survive.

He looks back at his sister, looking at the faint scar on his sister's neck. His throat tingles, he has already got his scar that repeatedly bleed and burned each time a woman was hanged or burned to death.

The judge shakes his head before opening his mouth.

"Guilty!" The words reverberate in his head as he quickly launchs out of his bed, clutching his neck.

No....blood?

What?

Why was there no blood?

Weren't the women killed?

Why was there no burning in his throat or blood pouring out?

However, he feels scabs on his neck.

Why are the scabs doing there?

There was only one scar.

"Jeremy?" Hands are on his. Suddenly, the room shifts. He wasn't in the courtroom anymore, he was in his house. The house he paid for.

He remembers he wasn't in...there anymore, he was in Boston.

Where Al and Dal stayed.

He remembers they had been found by Al.

"S-Salem?" Jeremy chokes out.

"We aren't in Salem anymore, Jeremy. We're in Boston." Pat gently says, Arthur and Connie are behind her. Jeremy falls back on his bed, his mind struggling to catch up with reality.

"No...no, we have to be in Salem. How could we not be?" Jeremy murmurs.

"Jeremy, look at me. It was just a nightmare, it's not real. Let's go back to sleep, okay?" Pat says as she pushs Jeremy down on his bed.

Arthur snuggles back into his place while Pat rolls over the both of them and lays down on Jeremy's left side and Connie curls up at the foot of the bed.

He sighs, maybe Pat was right.

Maybe he wasn't at Salem anymore.

Maybe that was in the past.

"We'll go see Al and Dal tomorrow, alright?" Pat murmurs, resting her head on his shoulder.

He nods, resting his head on top of her's.

Apparently, you haven't learned from your past.

Jeremy hears Lettie's voice ring in his head. The massacre, the way he accused John Adams of being a traitor because...he was giving a trial to the British soldiers?

Jeremy feels so stupid now.

He had been so consumed by his feelings that he didn't stop to think that if the British soldiers didn't have Adams, they would have to defend themselves or have no one to defend them.

It wasn't...exactly fair, but he didn't even think about that.

He sighs again, shaking his head at his stupidity.

They deserved a fair trial, just like all those women who were killed without evidence...and without fairness.

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I have to ask, do you know what this is about? I do, but guess in the comments! Anyone guesses right gets a cookie. If you don't understand why Mass and Rhode and Connie and Maine have different names compared to my other fanfic "Crazy Little Americans,' it's because they changed their names after the Revolution, when the first became states as they wanted to be their own person without having Alfred's surname. Hate it if you want, but I like that idea and I'm keeping it.

Anyways, if you're questioning if they really did put a toddler in prison, yes, yes they did. Her name was Dorothy Good (historically refered to as Dorcas Good) and she was convicted of witchcraft at the age of three or four years old, she was the youngest of being accused as a witch during this time. Her mother was as well. She was five when she was released. She was in jail from March 24th to December 10th, she went insane in the prison. She watched her mother give birth to her sister, Mercy Good and her mother was killed right after. Yeah, pretty heartbreaking, but that's what it was like back then.

Edit: I have edited this. Maybe I'll add another a second chapter.

Edit: 8/4/24. I have edited this into present tense.

Words: 852

-Rose