"You are my Witch," he said, running his hands along her thighs and down her calves, feeling the shape of her even as the silk of her gown kept them both from what they wanted. "My ԵҽʍթեɾҽЅЅ... my ՏօɾϲҽɾҽЅЅ... I cannot resist you, no matter how I tr...
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She'd stroll through the village of Salem, eyes fixed on the ground. When greeted, the girl scarcely uttered a sound: 'cause she was just too shy to speak to anyone in the village.
Since her parents death a few years back, she's lived on her own in no more than a shack. A tiny little run down wooden shack with broken windows, a roof and a door with a bed made out of hay but still, she called it home.
Her hair was black as the feathers on a Raven. In the thoughts of men her innocence fell along with her virginity. It was such a pity for her but still she put up a strong face and let them continue to touch her body like the bohemians they were in her eyes... They'd follow her in the light of day, besot by her peculiar way.
They'd leave their wives in the dark of night to spy as she danced beneath the pale moonlight.
One woman swore by God that she witnessed her reading a book of magic, so wicked, when actually it was a book on rare herbs for her concoctions to help the sick and the poor... No wonder her husband held such foolish notions. Possessed by this witch and all her love potions.
When questioned, the girl, she could not tell, what power had she, if not by spell. Could take hold of a man, lead him into temptation, if not by witchcraft or some incantation.
Her persuasion rooted in evil they deemed. Her protest heard by way of her screams of pain and suffering when they put her in the old metal pot, its with the will of the devil himself that she fought.
It was said her fate would be redeemed, if her body stayed below surface. Named pure again in the eyes of God by those who stood to bear witness of her being tormented to death: fully submerged, she struggled for air. Sinking, the angel with black feathers for hair.
With bibles in hand, they gathered around. Together they shouted vulgar, disgusting words at her while watching her demise.
Redemption then granted, her sins pronounced clean, by the men who condemned her, to death, at sixteen until a small black Peregrine falcon saved her from her own watery grave.
Never has she seen such a beautiful bird with black feathers and a white oak beak swoop down from its perch and come and rescue her from the devil's sins.
The bird transformed into a beautiful woman and took off running with the girl; one hand in the other, their hearts heavy and their breathing rigged but still nothing could stop them from leaving the damned village of Salem for good... The two escaped the village, Adelaide's home she once called her own and now, Adelaide Peregrine was finally free and this is her Story...
