Second Sight

Elevated

The course on Colonial Salem continued to grow in interest to Ava.

"The witch's name, of course," Professor Hawthorne continued, "was Bridget Bishop. She was one of the first in the Salem colony convicted of witchcraft, and was hanged by the neck until dead.

Ava's hand flew up, like an out-of-body experience. Ava didn't actually want to ask this question, but her powerful subconscious had other ideas.

"Yes, Miss Murphy?"

Being called on made her realize what a mistake it was to ask the great Professor Hawthorne a question. Nonetheless, she persisted. "Professor, is there concrete proof that Bridget was hung—"

"Hanged," his grouchy voice interrupted her question to correct her grammar.

"—erm, hanged by the neck until dead? What about the many myths regarding burning witches?"

Ava could have sworn that the professor rolled his eyes at her question. If she had to guess, she certainly wasn't the only person who had asked this question, and she certainly wouldn't be the last. "Miss Murphy, as much as we would like to believe that Salem has so much a darker history than it appears, no, she was not burned at the stake until dead. That is a myth."

As sure as the words "she was not," and "that is a myth," were spoken by him, his ghostly figure began to glow with a haunting black and red light. The light pulsed, as though she was looking at a raging Saturday night party through his ghostly form.

"I understand, Professor," her subconscious felt as thought it was taking over. Did Ava truly want to be arguing with a man as intense as Professor Hawthorne? Of course not, but there was something about that night, about the ritual that she had witnessed, that ignited her desire to know more. "But,"

One of his dark caterpillar eyebrows lifted up in disbelief. "But?"

"History is written by the winners, by the powerful, by the successors," Ava explained. She was passionate about this topic, concerning the fact that she was planning on writing her final thesis on this exact issue with recordings of history. "The winners were the men that wanted to see these women dead for what they believed to be witchcraft."

"What is your point, Miss Murphy?" Hawthorne was obviously becoming agitated. His red-black aura was beginning to create more swirling red energies, growing more and more intense by the minute.

"My point is, Professor," please please don't hate me, she thought after she continued, "is that these men wanted to be seen as heroes. Hanging by the neck until dead was considered a just way of punishing someone. Tying them to a stake, burning them alive... it could be seen as..."

"Barbaric," another girl behind Ava finished her sentence. Ava was unsure if she had ever seen this girl in class before. Much to Ava's relief, she was not another beast, or a ghost, or something like Arabelle or Belphegor. This girl, the one coming to Ava's rescue in an argument she knew she wasn't going to win, was completely... human. "Imagine if you had witnessed someone being burned alive for something they may or may not have actually done. A crime they may have never committed."

"I—" both girls could tell that Hawthorne wanted to spit back a retort, but something was stopping him in his tracks. His eyes darted across the room, first in spite, but his emotions cooled very quickly. "That is..." he stopped, obviously formulating his words so as not to give something away. "That is very insightful of you. Of both of you."