Trapped

V

"So," I began, as we walked along a dirt path, "Is there a Mrs. Smith?" I looked expectantly at Elias. I knew people back then got married early, plus I didn't know how old he actually was. He looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, but I didn't know. Man, he was good looking. I was trying not to think about the fact that he was like 400 years older than me. Talk about freaky. He was even older than my dad.

"No, I am not married. How about yourself? Someone as beautiful as you is bound to have a husband," he inquired, raising an eyebrow as he looked me in the eyes.

"No, I'm planning on waiting until I'm a little older," I said, truthfully. "So, how old are you?"

"I am seventeen, almost eighteen." He shot me a smile. "And yourself?"

"I'm seventeen too." I smiled back.

He looked away from me and cleared his throat. "So, we are here. This is the town square, and that building over there is the jail cells where the girls are being held." He pointed his finger straight ahead.

I nodded. "Okay thank you so much for bringing me here."

"Of course, anytime. Can I see you again?" He extended his hand out. I placed my hand in his, and he kissed it. Well, then. Boys in the 17th century sure did have class.

"Sure, sure. I'll-uh-I'll see you around. See you later." I then kind of ran away towards the direction he had pointed. I could hear him laughing behind me, as I moved away.

The jail was small, very small. It was a square building, if you could call it that. It was in rough shape. I pushed the scrappy wooden door open and walked through into the dank and musty room. It was dark, only one lantern in the corner lit. Behind bars, were three small girls. One of which, I recognized quite well.

"Hi," I said, addressing the three of them. I had no idea if Greta would know who I was. Technically, it was the past, so she hadn't died and met me yet. Would she remember me? There was only one way to find out.

"Hello Greta. Do you have any idea who I am?" I asked, crossing the room so I stood in front of the girls. There was no one else in the room presently. I was kind of surprised that they left the girls unattended, especially if they thought they were witches.

"Who-who are you?" Greta asked, backing away from the bars. The girls sat with their backs pressed against the back wall. They wore old fashioned dresses that were now a few days old looking. They were tattered and dirty. They must have had been in that cell for at least a few days, maybe more.

From descriptions Greta gave me of her friends, I was able to place who was who. Abigail was blonde. Her hair was in pig tails, held up with pink ribbons. It had bouncy, natural curls at the ends. A bonnet was placed a top off her head. Her bright blue eyes were watery, and they shown with fear, as she looked up at me. Her dress was also pink, her skin a cream white contrast against it. Freckles from the sun dotted her nose and cheeks.

Lydia had dark brown hair, similar to Greta's. It was pulled back into a simple braid, some of it covered by her bonnet. Unlike Greta's brown eyes, Lydia's were a greenish- blue color. They were pretty, like the cool waves of a mid-morning ocean. She had a hand wrapped around Greta's left arm. It trembled slightly. There were visible bags under her eyes, and she looked miserable.

Greta sat in the middle of the two girls, with Lydia on her left and Abigail on her right. She looked at me with a confused and scared expression. They were on death row, so they had every right to be scared of a random stranger walking in and asking strange questions.

"I am sorry, but I do not think we have met before." Her eyebrows furrowed together. So there was absolutely no one in this time period that could help me, just great. This was proving to be harder than I thought.

"Oh, okay. Right, right. Sorry, you just look like someone else. Someone I used to know," I said, brushing off her denial of knowing me like it didn't make me want to scream. However, it did, in fact, make me want to scream in frustration. Greta said all I had to do was find her, but if she doesn't remember me, how was this supposed to fix anything?

I was about to say something else, when I heard footsteps outside. The girls' eyes grew wide. I jumped into the dimly lit corner, obviously it was not a good hiding spot, but it was all I had. Two men burst into the room. They took a few steps in, and I darted out the door behind them. I only made it out without being seen, because they were deep in conversation. I got very lucky.

The first man looked familiar, even though I had never met him. He was young, probably in his mid twenties. He was attractive, but had a serious look to him. He had brown hair and eyes so dark they were almost black.

He second man looked like a priest. He had on black robe type things and a cross necklace. He was much older, probably in his fifties. A deep scowl was imbedded in his face. Wrinkles made him look older, maybe coming from frowning too often.

I stood outside of the building and peered in the window. I could hear what they were saying, but barely, due to the fact that there was no glass on the window.

"These are the girls. Has Satan advanced too far on them? Are they save-able, Father John?" The younger man said.

"What is the reason they are being acquitted, Ebenezer?" The priest responded, in a soft voice, as he carefully studied the three girls.

"They were caught by Mr. Smith practicing the devil's work in the woods." Greta's own father turned her in? How horrible. My dad didn't spend much time with me, but I couldn't imagine him ever turning me in for being a witch.

"I am sorry, but it looks to me like they are too far tainted by the unclean. We must save them. Have them put to death, as soon as possible." The priest didn't have a hint of guilt on his face. He looked disgustedly at the Abigail, Lydia, and Greta. Those poor girls.

"As you say, sir. They will be hanged on the morrow in the square at midday," Ebenezer treated the case like it was just another day's work.

Now I only had one day to save three little girls' lives in a completely different century with absolutely no idea on how to start. Oh shit.