The Diary Of Loretta Cooke

Entry Two

After walking dazedly back to my room I fell right to sleep. It seemed like no time at all until I woke up with my sisters gone from the room and the door flung wide open with curtains drawn. I looked toward the town and saw people milling about the cobbled streets, the sweet morning dew glistening on the roofs of the houses and stalls. People ducked under outward-pointing roofs to avoid the gentle shower that washed away the detritus of the day before. 

Marilyn, Victoria and Mary's nanny, who maid for our family, quietly entered the room. Strictly speaking, she was the groundskeeper but father had hired her to look after the little ones as well.

"Lory! It is almost eight in the morning! Your mother insists that you come down for your breakfast and chores."

Marylin was my best friend, though she was much older than me she always cared about my needs as much as she cared for my siblings. She was also the only person outside our family, other than our doctor, to know about my disease. I tore my gaze away from the window and nodded, hugging Marilyn quickly as I walked toward the closet to get ready for the day. 

As I passed another window I noticed, as I had the night before, the blood on my nightgown. I tried to cover it with my hair but Marilyn noticed as well. She gently moved my hair away from the stain and brushed the back of her hand across my face. The guilt from following Amberly and Edward as well as almost murdering my sister swarmed me, and I crumpled onto my bed, knocking her hand away and turning my back. I looked out the window again, as Marilyn gently hugged me from behind. 

The town looked more ugly and scarred now that someone knew of my night wander.  I noticed the trash piled high and crowded on the sides of the road, that had been too much for the gentle rain to push away from the eyes of the innocent. The people looked as sad and tired as I was, even though I knew my situation was a painfully unique one. 

I looked up as Marylin sat beside me, her gentle brown hair tickling my face as she leaned closer to give me a small squeeze. I just sat completely still and waited for her to leave. She didn't understand what I could have done to any of my sisters.

Ten minutes later I was dressed and heading to town for my weekly shopping. Mother hadn't looked at me when I came down for breakfast. She only sighed and glared pointedly at my tangled hair, I hadn't bothered to brush it. 

In town, I felt the usual mix of pitying and interested stares as I walked about looking for vegetables. 'Look at the odd Cooke girl," I imagined them saying to each other, 'I heard that she once stayed in her room for days reading instead of playing with her sisters.'

After about an hour of shopping, I saw a crowd of people starting to gather around the fountain. I jumped up and down behind the wall of people, trying to see above their heads. Finally, the crowd shifted enough for me to see two people locked in some sort of argument. When I looked closer I recognized Mrs. Wendall, the woman who ran the herbs and incense shop. The other figure was so far unrecognizable to me but he seemed to be winning. I craned my neck to see the mystery man's face and I noticed a shiny sort of buckle on his jacket and I realized who he must be. Witchfinder General John Anson turned toward the crowd and announced loudly, as Mrs. Wendall cowered next to the stonewall of the fountain, 

"My dear citizens! I found this wretch to be conspiring with none other than the wicked Father of Lies himself!" 

Mrs. Wendall started shaking and whispering into a worn blue prayer cloth tucked into her sleeve.

Anson smiled sardonically at the terrified woman curled in a ball and yelled to the crowd, 

"The rocks and smells she sells at her satanic shop? plague in a bag! And the bottles of plants she claims help your ailments? Nothing more than the devil's alcohol." he grabbed Mrs. Wendall by her coat and pulled her upright. "This woman has been giving out curses! Just look at the Cooke girl. You've all seen her walking around as though she owns this town! But in reality, she has been plagued by Satan herself!"

Anson motioned with his free hand at me and I felt people back away quickly.

"I have seen her visit the crazy woman's shop almost every day! They talk and talk before the witch takes her into the back room." Anson dramatically pointed at Mrs. Wendall before throwing her back to the ground and pinning her under his foot.

"Please don't hurt Loretta, you already have me just let her run home." Mrs. Wendall suddenly spoke up. She had always sympathized with me and given her herbs to help with the cuts and bruises I obtained from my disease. 

"Now the witch speaks! And tries to take the attention off of herself! Look at this cowardly wretch. Pitiful."

Anson pushed his foot harder into Mrs. Wendall's stomach. He was a short man but hulking nonetheless. I had had enough. I couldn't stand frozen any longer while one of my only friends was trapped under such a horrible man. 

"Stop! You're hurting her!" I cried, finding my feet pushing me toward Mrs. Wendall and Anson. 

Mrs. Wendall wriggled under Anson's foot suddenly, sending him tripping backward off of her, waving his arms like a windmill. Mrs. Wendall's updo came undone as she ran at me, turning me around and pushing me toward the hill leading back to my house.

 "Run Loretta! I will be ok, just go! He will not stop at me! Find Edward! Go Loretta go!" 

I was too scared, I couldn't bring myself to go back to her. I trusted that she would be ok. I brushed the hands that were pulling me back to the circle away, as I ran terrified from the fountain. I heard Mrs. Wendall screaming for mercy as the crowd closed back around the scene I'd left far behind me. As I turned around for a last look I saw Anson push Mrs. Wendall to her knees and say something to the surrounding crowd. 

"run, run, run," I repeated as I continued through the town. 

Mrs. Wendall had to be okay, right? 

BANG!!!! 

I stopped in my tracks, I didn't dare to turn around but I couldn't keep running either. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity but I turned around. It was respectful, wasn't it? I just needed to know. The crowd was gone and Anson was standing right behind me. Mrs. Wendall was still lying where I had last seen her, crouched in prayer.

I pushed past Anson and walked back down the hill to where she lay. Her prayer cloth by her hand, teardrops darkening the fabric as if she had cried only a few tears before Anson shot her. Anson...shot her. I was crying lightly at first, but a tsunami of sadness and anger was warring on my face. I turned on my heel to face the murderous Witchfinder general. 

He was still watching me, he seemed interested in what I would do. The anger won over, and all the rules i'd learned, and fear of The Witchfinder General I had been ingrained with since I was a little, Disintegrated. I was still crying but I wasn't sad anymore, just angry that a kind and beautiful life had been cut short. 

"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL HER," I screamed at Anson. 

Faces poked out from the stalls in the market, watching the 'weak' and 'fragile' Cooke girl scream at the most powerful man in Salem. But I didn't stop. 

"You know she wasn't a witch! She went to church every day! More than I can say about you!" I said it as loud as I could, getting all the nosy people to withdraw back into their stalls. 

Unfortunately for me, Anson had had enough. He grabbed my shoulder firmly and pulled me close enough to feel his foul breath on my face. 

"What I did was kind, now she may have a greater chance at forgiveness." 

So he thought he was doing her a favor. I pulled away from him and said again more quietly, 

"Why did you have to kill her." I breathed deeply and turned back to Mrs. Wendall's body and crouched to pick up her prayer cloth. 

I wrapped it around my knuckles and smoothed the wrinkles around the corners. The sadness was coming back, slipping through the cracks in my armor of hate. 

"You could never be as brave as the woman you just murdered." I said quietly, rubbing the prayer cloth. "I hope you die, and god sends you to hell." 

I'll admit, it wasn't a great idea to insult him, and it definitely wasn't a good idea to do it within arms reach of him.