The Weeping Witch

Chapter Three:

I hovered over the fireplace, stirring the content in the dutch oven which was placed over hot coals. Mother, Alice, and I were preparing breakfast before we went about our daily schedule. I was not quite sure how everything would play out in Salem, now that we had witches among us. I wondered how much more different things would be.
I grabbed some bowls, and lifted the large ladle out of the dutch oven, and poured the gooey porridge halfway in each of them. After carrying them to the table, I sat down, watching as Mother and Alice filled cups with cider. When all was prepared, we all sat down together. And like we have done for so long, we said the Lord's Prayer before eating.

"Our Father who art in heaven-"
I glanced around at my family, who sat still. Hands folded, and eyes closed. They recited this prayer with such passion, like this was a new prayer. But as for me, it was an act. How could one find comfort in saying the same words over and over? Would not even God tire of his children reciting the same words over and over?
I grow more tired of it each day that passes. It means nothing to me. Not like it did as a child.
"-Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our tresspasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."
We echoed "amen", and then ate.

It was about midday when Father allowed me to go on my daily outings. I quickly grabbed my cloak and rushed out the door. Although I was met with a blast of needle-like air, I pressed forward. Enduring nature was better than enduring the presence of my family.
I pulled my hood over my head, blocking out the wind as much as I could. The snow had stopped for several days now, and it had been melting at a good pace. The sun was shining every day, giving us warmth after the harsh winter. I looked out past the buildings which we called our homes, and watched the water glisten that laid miles and miles beyond us.
Since it had warmed, many people were out and about, doing chores. Some, just walking about.
Some little girls bounded by me in a rush, clinging to dolls in their hands. They giggled and talked to one another, giving their dolls silly voices, and putting movement into the inanimate things.
I lowered my head as a group of men walked by, and I walked toward the edge of the path to make sure they had space to walk. That is what women were supposed to do here. Stay humble, and give men everything. If it were any other day, and there were no trials being held; I would keep my head held high and I would stay on my path. But I dare not push my luck, it would bring a bad name upon my family.

One of the voices I noticed. It belonged to the son of one of the wealthiest families here: Thomas Collier. His voice rang louder than all the others. He spoke with such pride and zeal. I wrinkled my nose when he mentioned the trials, saying that if he had any say in the matter; he'd have everyone accused hanged. This man disgust me more than most who live in this village. He was rude, arrogant, self-righteous. Everything I hated in a person.
I hurried past them, and once I was at a safe distance; I looked over my shoulder and watched as the young men trekked further down the road. I wondered where they were off to. I shrugged, and walked on.

I was nearing the center of the village when I heard several shrill screams. I quickened my steps and followed the crowd which was already gathering near the church. I pushed through people and finally caught a glimpse of what they were all gathering around.
Elizabeth Hubbard was lying in the mud, lashing around like a child taking a fit. She was releasing horrifying screams, and even began to dance around the circle we had created surrounding her. Women let out several gasps, and held their children closely to them. And the men began to say prayers, hoping to be the one who rid Salem of witches. I could see it in their eyes: they were excited, they enjoyed this. It was merely entertainment. For whatever reason this girl had to take such a fit, I knew that it had nothing to do with witchcraft. The people standing around were too afraid to touch Elizabeth, for fear the spirit would pass into them. Some ran for the Reverend's house, and the rest stood around gawking at poor Elizabeth while whispering gossiping words to one another.
I shook my head, and slowly backed away. What a sight this was. Not only at what Elizabeth was doing, but the people standing around her turning this into entertainment. Clearly Elizabeth was suffering from some form of illness. She needed medical help, and I hoped she would get some.
I turned and walked away, knowing that by now Father would be anxious that I was gone a bit longer than usual. But I think I would have a reason to make him overlook my being gone so long. I was glad to hear the noise coming from Elizabeth fade away as I walked further. I was watching my feet crunch down onto the hardened snow, being so focused on that, I failed to notice Reverend Parris walking on the same path as I; and I nearly ran into him.

"Gracious child!" He scolded me in a haughty tone. "Watch where you are going!"
I quickly curtsied, "Please forgive me, Reverend."
Parris placed a hand on my shoulder and lifted my lowered chin with the tip of his finger. "Now, now, my child. Do not be worried." He smiled.
I plastered on my fake smile, and nodded.
The Reverend glanced around, as he dropped his hand to his side. "Now then." He added, "you have been out here quite awhile, have you not?"
"I-I merely went for a small walk." I stammered.
"Hurry along back home Miss Wells, your Father has been waitin' on you. You ought not be walking idly about." Parris warned me.
I nodded, and curtsied one last time before scurrying away.

Words could not describe the amount of hate I had for that man. And I was not the only one within Salem either. Whether it was farming land, or wanting the authority over Salem, whatever the reason. Most hated him. I, for one, hated him because he was simply a horrible man not fit for the role of authority. Not many men here were fit for that role. Nevertheless it was the way Salem was, and there was not a thing I could do about it.

As I was taking my time home, I noticed a horse and buggy trotting down the pathway. After stepping out of its way, I strained to catch a glimpse of who was inside; I had never seen a buggy around here that looked so, well, perfect. I saw a well dressed man within the seat of the buggy. The closer I looked, I noticed a fairly large pile of books bouncing up and down on the leather seat beside him. After thinking for a moment or two, I realized who this man was: Reverend John Hale.
He was here.
I turned to watch him disappear down the snow-packed path. I hope he would bring clarity to all this nonsense, and I hope the people would listen.

I returned to my path, and continued to make my way home.
But the casualties of running into people I would rather not cross paths with, become the highlight of today. I was scanning the horizon, off in my own safe fantasy world; when I saw a group appearing over the hill before me. Even from where I was, I could hear their loud voices. I groaned to myself as I pressed forward, hoping I would pass them with ease. But to my dismay, this afternoon had an entirely different plan for me.
As I tried to hurry past them, the person I had no interest in talking to stopped me.

"Are you Mr. Wells daughter?" Thomas Collier asked.
I turned my head away from them so they would not see me let out a silent sigh. After turning back, I slowly nodded.
There was a pause, and I heard one of his friends whisper to another beside him something close to the fact that I was nineteen and had not yet been married. I believe I detected a chuckle between them as well. I quickly bit my lip to keep myself from saying anything that could cause problems.
Thomas attempted to catch my gaze, and when he did he focused on it. "What are you doing out and about all alone?" he questioned.
"I am heading home as we speak." I bit my lip, "if you must know." I blurted out.
Thomas' friends grew wide-eyed. They all looked each other, then at Thomas to await his response.
I cringed. If Father ever found out I had spoken in this manner to a man, I would be surely punished in some way. My heart dropped, if Thomas and his friends ran with this; I could end up on trial with the rest of the women.
Thomas must have noticed the horrified look in my eyes because he immediately spoke.
"Please forgive me for prying, Miss Wells." He paused for a second, "what is your name, might I ask?"
"Millicent." I replied.
"I am Thomas, Thomas Collier." He added, while offering his hand to me.
I glanced down at it, and then back to his face. I cautiously placed my hand in his; then he gently shook my hand.
"Please to meet you, Millicent Wells. I hope to see you again."
I nodded, after taking back my hand.

I peered out of the corner of my eyes as they marched down the path. I shook my head in confusion then began to tread up the hill toward home. I prayed that I would be met by no one this time.