Salem's Curse

3

It was dire that I woke up early on Sunday. Any normal person would have been able to sneak those last extra few minutes of blissful sleep all to them self, but not me. I couldn't afford to be normal. I had to be perfect. I jumped up onto the bed to glance out of the window. The dull February sun had already risen over the snow-covered eaves of the surrounding houses. I let out a little shriek and leaped to throw on my on my overcoat. If I hurried, I could still make it to the well before the rest of the town woke up. If I was lucky I could make it before my parents got up. I crept down the stairs, avoiding the creaky spots on the floor with ease. I had had almost made it to the door when I heard a familiar sound.

"Mercy Gale! What on Earth are you still doing here!"

Sheepishly, I turned around. "Oh mother, I didn't mean anything by it. Honest! I just - "

"Hush child, neither of us has time for that now," snapped my mother. "You're lucky Mr. Bowman is still ill and in bed, or he'd give you a thrashing clear 'till next Tuesday."

"Forgive me, Mam," I said, bowing my head. "I'll do better."

She softened a bit. "Come here," she said. "Your overcoat isn't on properly, and you've mussed your hair." She straightened my dress, then reached up to hide my odd strand of gray hair beneath my cap. A smile flickered across her face as she let her hand linger on my cheek, crinkling the lines around her eyes. She could never stay mad at me for long."Do try and be careful," she whispered softly.

"Don't worry," I grinned, twirling away from her. "They couldn't catch me if they tried."

I heard my mother laugh as I turned and headed for the door. "And none of your tricks today Goodie Gale!" she called after me.I stepped into the outside world and was relieved to see that it was still asleep. I drew my cloak close to shield against the biting air. The sun was up now, rising clear above the chimnies of the surrounding homes. Some people were already moving about the damp, sleepy streets. Thankfully, many were still in their homes. But Salem would not be asleep for much longer, and I wanted I wanted to finish my task while it remained as such. I grabbed my pale, and headed for the well.

As much as it was my home, I loathed Salem Town. I couldn't bear its tall, grim gray buildings. They never seemed to be bright and happy the way I thought a house should be. The people were no better. Every individual I'd ever met was as cold and rigid as a slab of stone. Even my own parents were hardly an exception. True they were softer and gentler than most of the village, and they treated me with as much love as I could ever hope for given my situation. But there were times they seemed quite as stiff and unhappy as the rest of the town.

For further proof of the towns harshness, I needed look no further than my own name. It was no secret that I was not my parent's own child (I hardly looked like them), but they had done their best to raise me as their own. And yet, I had not been given the privilege of sharing their surname. The townsfolk felt that it was inappropriate to give an outsider, let alone one of questionable origins, to be allowed one of their names. And so I was given the well suited, if not slightly mal-intended surname of "Gale", to serve as a symbol of my past. I was found in the middle of a storm after all. But the name also served as a painful reminder that I was blown into the village on a whim, not born into my life as the other children were. Although it did seem insulting at times, I grew to like it. It gave me a sense of individuality that often seemed hard to come by in Salem.

After a bit of walking, I finally reached the well. I leaned over the side and peered down into it. It had frozen over in the cold winter air, and a thick layer of ice sat at the bottom. I took a deep breath and gripped the cold stone ledge. I knew what I had to do.

You see, as long as I could remember, I had been different. Not only because I didn't fit into the village, but for other reasons too. I could do things the others could not. I could make things happen just by wishing them to be. I could make flags blow without wind, and kettles sing without there being a fire beneath them. I could melt ice without touching it. It was as if I had power over things no one on earth should. My mother and father seemed not to have the slightest idea made me do such things. If they did, they dare not talk about it. Although sometimes I thought they suspected me to be the product of some sort of witchcraft, they never let it show. I was my mothers only love and pride, and she refused to believe there could be anything but light in my soul. Sometimes I thought I could feel some deep sense of what I was, deep in a corner of my mind, but I had no words to explain it. My parents simply called it my "tricks", as if I was merely playing some childish prank. I didn't know what to call it, but I knew it was much more than that.

Although my parents were willing to accept me as I was, albeit somewhat reluctantly at times, they forbade me from using my abilities lest I reveal myself to the village. That didn't mean I always listened though. There were times when I just couldn't help it. Like now.I closed my eyes and pressed my hands to the cold stone wall of the well. I took a deep breath, and breathed life into the well, sending light and heat spiraling down into the cold heart of the earth. I opened my eyes again, grabbed the pail, and slipped it into the hole, drawing fresh, clear water back up. I groaned as I realized that I must have overdone it a bit. The water in the pail was boiling. But it didn't really matter. Now the rest of the town could have their water too.I should have felt happy with myself, but instead, I was filled with guilt. Although I had been returning to melt the ice every morning this winter, I still felt bad for going behind my parent's backs.

Suddenly, I froze, feeling someone's eyes upon me. I turned to see Goodie Pickworth staring over my shoulder."I wouldn't bother with that," she said gloomily, "I came to fill my pail earlier. Seems the well's finally frozen ov -"

I froze as I saw her eyes move to my full pail, and back to my face.

"Well I'll be," she said, raising an eyebrow, "It was hard as rock last I came to look at it."

I dropped my head, hoping the folds of my cloak would hide my burning cheeks. How could I have been so careless? I should have just let it be. "Thanks be," I mumbled, "The - uh - the sun must have thawed it."

"Aye, thanks be," she murmured, though she still looking skeptical.

I hurried away before she could ask any questions, hoping she didn't see the steam rising from the top of my bucket.