Forgotten by Fortune

Entry Three

     Entry Three

     March the 2nd, 1618

     Joan says that the witch hunters have come to the village nearby. She had gone there this morning to buy food, and had come back, pale faced, with not just our food but the news that there had been a trial not long ago, and that she had been forced to attend it - if she hadn't been there, it would have seemed suspicious.

     'Worse still,' she tells me, 'they know about where we live. They asked me, and if I refused - well, if I refused, we would not be talking about this right now. I did not tell them about you, though the leader of the witch hunters asked if there was anybody else living with me, but that means that if they find you if they come - it would be tomorrow, since they are not finished in the village - and they find you, one of us will definitely be accused. I would rather it be me than you, but I cannot be sure for certain who. This means you will have to hide somewhere, but...' Joan trails off. We both know that the hiding places in our small hut are close to none.

     'That only leaves one other option,' I say.

     'No, Heather, you cannot,' Joan says to me, because we both know what this will come down to. I will have to leave. Far away from our house and deep into the forest which I have seen so many times, yet have never properly set foot in. So far away that it is more likely then not I will get lost.

     'What other choice do we have?' I tell her. 'It is either this or dying for certain. Even if I die in the forest, it could have happened a long time ago, when I was just a baby.'

     'Heather...' she pleads.

     However, I have already made up my mind.

     —

     I think the last few hours I spent in the familiarity of our hut are both the happiest and the saddest ones in my life. Joan celebrates my last day here; she says it is to make me feel better, though I suspect it is also to comfort herself. I must leave very early in the morning, before the sun rises, so I go to bed very early. I lie there, but I am wide awake. I am writing this right now, before I leave, so I do not forget these last moments, so I can one day look back at these pages and remember how I feel right now.

I try to fall asleep, and when I cannot, I go over our plan in my head. I am to leave by the back door - we are very lucky to have one, says Joan. I will take this diary with me. I cannot leave it behind, lest the witch hunters find it, but it also contains memories of the house and my life before all this, and of Joan. I think it will be at least a small comfort to me.

A.N. Thanks you so much to my voters;

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- Sylvia_Nightshade