The Town of Salem

Introduction

Margaret grabbed her journal and pen, gazing out the aged windowpane of the cabin door. The fog rested low to the ground, the mist gently kissing the blades of grass along the path. She grabbed her keys and opened the door, feeling the harsh air nip her nose.

The wood of the cabin was beginning to rot, withering away along with the age of the land. Margaret's fingertips brushed the siding of the doorframe, closing the door behind her as she made her way down the path.

She reached the campgrounds in record time, the rush of excitement pushing her feet to sprint down the path towards her travel van. She rushed to throw open the door, relieved by the familiar smell of adventure and eucalyptus camphor.

Tomorrow marked her nineteenth birthday, prompting her to travel to Boston, Massachusetts for a weekend getaway. She had promised herself time away from work, but she couldn't suffocate the excitement that rose in her throat when she thought of being only half an hour away from Danvers. Her thoughts were interrupted, seeing her phone light up in the seat beside her. She hesitated, taking her time to glance at the Caller ID.

"Hello?" she answered, picking up the call from her mother. She heard her cry with joy, another voice joining her.

"Hello, sweetie," her mother cooed, elated by the fact that her daughter had accepted a call for the first time in months.

"Margaret, it is so good getting to hear your voice again," her father chimed in. She could imagine the smiles that were painted on their faces, causing her lips to tug into a smirk as she pulled out of the campgrounds.

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad," she laughed, waving to the camp supervisor as he spotted her from the office window.

"Happy early Birthday, sweetie," they shouted in unison, singing their own out-of-key rendition of the Happy Birthday melody.

"Thank you," Margaret whispered, turning out of the campgrounds to drive towards the main road.

"What are your plans for tomorrow, sweetheart?" her father asked. "We haven't heard from you for a little while." His voice choked, his tongue catching on the words. "We wanted to see how you were doing."

You don't have to lie, Dad, she thought to herself. I am well aware that it has been a few months since I've reached out. She sighed, stopping at the edge of the road.

"Well, I was a little restless this evening and thought that I should leave the town." She bit her thumbnail, waiting for the cars to pass her. "Boston is great, but it's too heavily populated for me. I need some time away."

"I thought you had said that you had found the perfect campground. Why don't you explore there?" Her mother already sounded worried, which wasn't a surprise to Margaret.

Her family never understood her passion, but continued to remain supportive of her educational journey in studying the Salem Witch Trials. With that being said, it worried them that she was never inclined to pick up a phone call or to respond to a text, even for special occasions.

"I already have, Mom. It's beautiful here, but Danvers is only half an hour away." Margaret was grinning from ear to ear, pulling her van out into the stream of traffic. She could hear her father groan, leaving the room.

"Margaret," her mother sighed, unsure of whether she should have expected this. "You promised your father and me that you were going to take it easy for your birthday. No work and no distractions. What happened to that, Meg?" Margaret tightened her grip around the wheel, cringing at the name.

They haven't called me that since I was a kid, she growled. I'm a mature, young woman. I'm not their little girl anymore.

"I know that's what I said, but I have to go." She chewed her lip, her van speeding down the road as she made her way to Danvers. "This city supposedly was known as Salem Village, which was most widely known-"

"-for its association with the witch trials. Yes, yes, I know, Meg. You've sent us the Wikipedia article multiple times." Meg audibly groaned, her knuckles turning white against the wheel. 

"You have to understand that we worry for you," she continued "You're a workaholic, Margaret. You're a perfectionist. Yes, you have dedicated your life to your work and we are unbelievably proud of that, but you promised us that you were going to take it easy. You told us that you were going to enjoy what Boston has to offer and then come visit us."

"Look, I'm not in the mood to talk about this," Margaret snapped, her face flushing with rage. "Tomorrow is my birthday and I think that it is my decision to do what I want on my special day. If I want to stop by Danvers and see what I can find, so be it. Whether it's for work or for my own personal enjoyment, it shouldn't matter." She clenched her jaw, unable to calm herself down.

"I love my job and I feel as though I haven't had to work a day in my life. I'm going to go wherever I want on this trip and if I decide to intertwine it with work, that is my decision. I spent all evening at the cabin tonight and I am ready to go out and explore and if you can't handle that, that's your problem and not mine." Margaret hastily ended the call with her mother, silencing it before throwing it into the seat behind her.

"They say they support you and then they still refuse to let go of you." She turned on the radio, blaring her favorite station as she cruised down the interstate highway.

Her van rattled to a stop, a smile plastered across her face as she reached an empty campground near Danvers. She immediately got to work, scouting out the perfect tent site to park her van. There was no one around, causing her to breathe a sigh of relief.

It didn't take her much time to get settled, parking her van in the center of her campground. She set up the back, creating her makeshift bed and pulling out a granola bar as her dinner. Her blankets and pillows comforted her as she sat and watched the sunset.

"It's so beautiful here," she whispered, running to the front of the van to grab her notebook and pen. She began sketching the horizon on the front cover, smiling as she envisioned the reds and yellows and pinks as they presented themselves before her.

Margaret opened to the first page in her journal, the tattered page holding the map of the surrounding area. She had gotten it from one of her coworkers who had been studying the lore of Salem Village since he had learned about the trials. She grabbed a travel map from the back of her van, comparing the two.

"There's enough time to do a little exploration tonight, right?" she asked herself. She checked her watch, leaping out of the back of the van as she gathered her things. "I'm sure there will be enough time."

Margaret decided that she would walk to the village, her journal tucked under her arm as she walked down the path. The fresh air filled her lungs, helping her to forget about the city and her life back home. She followed her map, adrenaline running throughout her body as she began sprinting down the path. She felt like a kid again, curious of the wonders of the world.

She approached an abandoned clearing, the sun disappearing behind the horizon as she entered the village square. She observed all of the houses, seeing that they were slowly rotting and on the verge of collapsing. She turned to the first house, seeing that it looked recently renovated. She cautiously stepped onto the front porch, glancing into the window to see that it was empty.

"It doesn't look like anyone lives here," she muttered to herself, testing the front door. It opened on command, welcoming her to the empty space. "I'm sure the owner wouldn't mind me spending the night. If there even is one," she trailed off, stepping through the door in the town of Salem.