I can't be trapped in here forever, there's no point in hiding, I can't live like that. I pulled a hair brush through my wavy hair rhythmically, over and over, straightening the tangles out, staring at myself in the mirror, thinking. What if I just go outside and deny any accusations? The brush got caught in my hair mid brush. Some already suspect me because of my eyes, I don't want to reinforce that. I pulled on the tangled hair gently, freeing it apart and making each brush smoother.
I heard a sharp rapping noise, like a repeated "thok". The sound of something knocking against the wooden door that was the entrance to my house. Aspen had previously left for work, so I set my hairbrush down, and walked over to the door, my shoes knocking against the floor as I moved. I twisted the handle and thrust the door open.
Three men stood at the door. "Hiii," I greeted. Then suddenly one of them grabbed the arm I was holding the door with. At that moment I immediately knew why they were there. They know, so do I resist? I was pulled out of my house, and a rough hand grabbed my other arm. No, I don't want to blow my cover yet. Then another reason came to me. There may be more people who have been accused of being witches, if I wait to meet them, I can save them.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
I was quite literally thrown into a cell, luckily I caught myself by holding my hands out against the wall. An echoing slamming of the door reverberated around my cell. I observed the room. It was small, too small for me to lie straight down on, and the walls were bumpy, made of old stone. Soooooo, who else is here?
I searched for Sarah Osborne's mind, but the cell where she should have been felt empty. I then looked through the minds of the guards at her cell. They still believed she was in there, this only meant one thing.
She's dead.
Fury boiled up inside of me. The woman was obviously sick, it was horribly cruel to drag her out of her house and chain her up in a small dirty cell. Why would they believe those two little girls? Betty and Abigail themselves are both sick and young.
Wait. People are coming. I sensed five minds walking straight for my cell. Three broke off, and I realized that one was Sarah Good, they were returning her to the cell. So they aren't killing us yet. I dug into the minds of the escorts, but they didn't give much context, only reinforcing my suspicion that they were giving us trials to make the executions more justifiable. So now it's my turn for a trial.
Two guards opened my room, one walked in and grabbed my arm, pulling me out of my cell. He then passed me to one of the two escorts. I strained against my binds to feed their feelings of power so they would underestimate me. I needed to learn more about what was happening, and who else was in danger of being accused.
The escorts pushed me into the courtroom, where circles of men scrutinized me. I knew that whatever I said wouldn't matter, I would be executed, well, I wasn't going to let myself be executed, but these people would try to.
One man walked forwards, looking at a few pieces of paper, he announced: "Betty Paris claims to have seen you break into her house at night and grab her, asking her questions about what she knew about witches like you. Samuel Parris also claims that he was awakened by Betty's screams, and when he went to investigate, you were there. You brutally assaulted him and ran away, and you must have strengthened the curse on Betty. What do you have to say for yourself?" This was going to be complicated, let's see.
Do I just tell them I'm a witch? Or do I pretend for a bit longer to see what's going to happen? I switched through the two options, pondering with my head tilted purposefully to aggravate the judges. "Well?" The man demanded. "So you're saying that us witches cursed Betty?" There, the years of hiding were over. Accusations started flying at me, most being unorganized screams of "WITCH!" or "YOU ADMIT IT!"
"Why would I waste my time on them?" "Samuel Parris has a deep connection with God, which is why Satan has turned his rage on Betty Parris and Abigail Williams, commanding you to curse them." The man replied, smirking like he knew he already won, which I guess he has, I had just told them I was a witch. Before I could think of something to reply with, he started again. "You said that we were accusing 'you witches', so are you implying there are more of you?"
"No, I'm the only one." I replied flatly, playing around here would put more people in danger. His smile straightened out, "take her back to the cell, and have a public execution of all four of them. Keep the slave, she has proven to give good information." After his order, the escorts each grabbed one of my arms, pulling me roughly back to the cell. The two guards posted at my cell parted, opening my cell door to let me in. I tilted my head down, looking at the guards as they walked out, and smiling as they slammed the door shut.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
Sitting in my cell for hours was boring, I sat in a corner which I had "cleaned out" by digging all the disgusting muck out and piling it against the adjacent wall, head laid against the dirty walls. Mind reading really helped though, I would follow conversations and delve deep into the minds of my guards, finding their deepest secrets and most embarrassing moments, sometimes I came across something funny, and I would burst out laughing. They definitely think I'm crazy now.
Finally, escorts came for me. Why do they have to be so rough? They're going to execute me anyways, there's no point in shoving me there. We walked in the opposite direction that the courtroom was, using the route that we took while they were bringing me here. I scuffed my shoes into the dusty route, raising up clouds of dust. The two escorts brought me to a small clearing in the center of town, where a wooden structure was. A tall upside down L shape, with rope hanging from the edge, and I was sure it hadn't been there yesterday. They're going to kill us by hanging us??? Why don't they just kill us quickly??? This was expected of course, everyone in Salem was so religious, they downright hated witches, as well as anything to do with the devil,
The escorts set me next to a woman, which, after searching her mind, I realized was Bridget Bishop. Who's that? I didn't know that Betty and Abigail accused them too. Soon after, a third woman was brought in and sat next to me. Sarah Good. We waited for a few more minutes. Waiting for Sarah Osborne. Then two armed men walked up from the path, a group of men congregated, and I jumped onto their conversation by hanging on to their thoughts. They were reporting Sarah Osborne's death, but not many cared, she was going to be executed anyway, because... Sarah Good had accused her? Immediately, disrespect formed for Sarah Good, she had blamed an innocent woman in an attempt to save herself. And it didn't even do her any good.
Then one man started looping and tying the rope, getting it ready to hang one of the "witches". So the hours in the prison were for nothing? I thought there would be more people being accused of being witches, if I had known it was just us, I would have just broken everyone out at the cells. Two men went to grab Bridget Bishop, who struggled, but couldn't do much. Alright, I'm done, time to free these people.
I twisted my hands in opposite directions against my binds, using magic to cut the rope open, making the strands fall to my feet. I stepped towards the men who were preparing to hang us, my black clothing pulled behind me, growing into my billowing witch dress, elegantly dark. "No one here is a witch-," I announced, sparks of glittering gems uncovering themselves from the folds of my dress, "except me."
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YOU ARE READING
The Salem Witch
FantasyCyra is a young witch, but she finds herself amidst chaos as the people of Salem execute people who are suspected to be witches. She struggles to put her past behind her as reminders chase her down.