1600 Diary

Day 6:

I’m writing this entry from a small brick prison cell. I hid the parchment under my breast in my corset; wasn’t the most reasonable place to store it but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I’m sitting in a small cell that is wet, cold and all made of stone. The movies make these cells out to have a wooden bench which is held up by chains, and straw covering the ground but I see nothing of the sort in this small room of my own undoing.

I was placed here after my outburst to Shakespeare. Witchcraft is what I’m accused of and it only makes sense; I did after all tell Shakespeare his future and what he is thought of in the future. Silly me, I should have remembered the constant accusations of this time and the stupid methods these people thought were a validation of a higher power.

It makes me sad knowing that these women who were accused were all innocent, just like me.

My head won’t stop throbbing and considering that Advil doesn’t exist for another 384 years, I guess I’m SOL.

The shackles on my feet dig into my skin and make me even colder than I thought was already possible. My gown is beginning to stink and I desperately need a toothbrush and tooth paste. My eczema is flaring up again and my skin is growing worse and worse by the hour. The dense and moist air is making my asthma become more evident, the wheezing is making me sound like death; not fun. I know that I wouldn’t last much longer once I left the prison; if I ever did leave.

 I can hear the guards coming; the clanking of their armour is echoing the torch lit halls. I have one more piece of parchment left; if I make it to tomorrow I will write, I promise you this.