"Did you get the first-aid kit yet?!" I cried to him as my hand was rubbing my bloody knees on a 10 foot deep hole. See... I was exploring an old town called "Salem”. You know, Witches, Beginning Lives, and Wars... everyone knows that...
“Don’t worry babe, I got the savior" My boyfriend, Josh, Called out to me from the top.
I chuckled. Falling from an old house that can't support you can be trouble. He vaulted down and uses the old bandages to cover my knee with the medicine to make it heal quicker, so now my knee was bundled with treatment and it was hard to move it now.
“We’re pretty lucky that your mom let us go to this Washington D.S. Trip, we get to explore this Old Town before they destroy this place."
He is treating this town like it was an enthralling one; I rolled my eyes and decided to dig the dirt for the fun of it. I started to pick up the dirt and throw it behind me with Josh trying to tell me to stop digging. For some reason, I didn't. I feel like something is under here and I need to find out what was there trying to be discovered.
“Hey Look!" I shouted accidently
Josh shakes a bit from my yells and whispered to me, "what?"
“It’s a book!" I was able to dig out all the dirt to feel the soft fur of a cover from the grounds, I blew the dust from it to make out the words ' Diary of a Witch's Friend'
“Wow! That's pretty decent! And it looks like it has been in a Salutary Status."
He was right... It was in perfect condition. Even though, old diaries of the Colonial Times were very hard to make because of the covers, this old diary of this was pretty new! I opened it and blew the dust off once more and found a letter all folded up with some little black burns on the corner. 'People of the Future please read this' it said.
“Should we read the letter first then the diary?" I questioned. Josh nodded. "Let's read it then."
“Let’s just get out of this ditch" I laughed, then I got up from the ditch using my feet to step on pointed wood and rocks, He followed me also from the cold, and air-less hole.
I breathed in and breathed out when I got to the old tables looking at the tome. Will this be a testament to prove that witches did exist? Will this help on who the real villains are? Maybe it will tell us how they lived or maybe how they survived.
I felt a hand going to a letter, Josh of course, and opened it up. I gulped... why was I nervous?
“Check this out...” He mumbled. “This is what happens to this girl... and maybe that diary could help us."
I reached for the letter again while Josh snatched the diary and read it. I suddenly gasp to myself... This letter is retelling the dream I had:
Surveying the grounds as each Pilgrim scouted the forest areas near their town; the red-haired girl was ambivalent on what to do. Watching if there were any bright-colored Doublets, Ruffs, Cuffs, or Felt Hats; she continued to gallantly climb the rocky slopes of a Muddy Hill to respite herself and her magic, and use her strength to build a fire on the cold, windy night. The Rain was about to fall from the sky as she beckoned her animal to come forth, giving a sign that no one was around. Her brown and baggy church robe with a yellow cross on her chest was all wrinkled and dirty along with her waist - lengthen reddish brown hair. She leaned against the hard and pointy rocks with a woebegone look on her pretty black eyes.
"Eliza?" The Witches Animal had been found. Shaking his light-orange and whitish stripe fur from the dirt, he shuffled his wounded feet back to his master, with a reward of a soft hand petting his head and scratching his chin softly; the girl grinned.
Taking off her Satin Witch Hat to the rocky grounds, Eliza felt her own blood dripping from her cheek, thinking about their rifles aiming at her innocent, red heart that flowed it's blood to the dirt leaving a black rosé behind with the name of her own Mom, 'Elizabeth Howe'.
Her body position was still and silent as she heard scurries of the Men of the Government with Fire raging in anger on the wood and pitchforks that were for farming.
She heard screaming and yelling for the witch's head and blood for cursing the poor girl's life... but did they notice it was not her? Ann was not tortured by a small 12 year old that always went to church and prays to the lord? Now she thinks that God won't help her innocence this time... even if her being the Witch was the actual Truth.
Eliza clapped her hands together and prays the lord that they will turn back to their village and forget about her ever living. The cat hissed at the noises brought from the cave, warning anyone to back off. He knew it was coming: the People! Her hands ached as she tried to get her body stand up, using telekinesis to pick her wand up and fled with the cat screwing his claws onto her robe. They flew through the tempest weather, the rain was soaking the grounds like the ocean with the sand but she still bolted away even when her languid body was giving her a hard time.
Her body felt heavy as the rain made it worse for her to fly, the cat shrieked as he noticed that they were falling to their death. They heard a crack and felt a burn on their skins and rocks knocking on their bodies as they rolled with the mud to the waters. Her voice became a slow and pitiful yelp as she clawed on the mud with her fingers bleeding and showing the bare meat the skin slipped out of. The animal no doubtly got up and lick his fur from the blood and soon used his tongue to try to wake her up, her face squinted with pain and uneasiness.
“Ranto? Urrrgh... It hurts..." Her voice was a sickly and low as she tried to speak her thoughts off.
“Stay Alive girl... Their Gone... It's over." The Cat with a husky voice tried to comfort her and nudges her body to the hallow tree as big as the Kingdom from England they originally came from.
“We can stay in here for shelter... but please don't go!" Ranto cried and whimpers at her to try to move for this one.
“I’m not going to die silly." Her voice was trying to be jovial like she was in the good ol'e days. "But for Now I need to sleep till the Trails are over... It was only two days after my Mom's execution and they think that I was the suspect... all I want is for the trails to be over. Ranto... as a friend... Can u erudite their memory of the day of my execution and suspicion? Just for me?"
"Can do" He nodded and his tail swayed with the rain, as he gazed at his owner one last time. "When will you wake up?"
"As soon as the Witches have been long gone for them... And I guess my little "Happy" side can take over till I can get back on my feet"
"But she's naive and doesn't know the surroundings of the trails how can sh-"
“JUST TRUST ME!" Her loud and crying voice can be heard around the area as she remembered her mom telling her daughter to trust me even if she was not guilty. Ranto's green eyes simmered to a scared tone after the master's exhort to trust the naive little girl.
“As you wish... But I have to watch over her right?"
“Correct... I'm sorry for giving you this much of a task" Eliza was able to make a funny grin at her pet with crimson juices pouring from her mouth to the black wet grounds.
“I understand... but please do come back when your well" Ranto replied to her apology with sincere eyes of a loyal comrade.
“Thank You..." She mused before she slumbered on the pouring rain leaving her pet comrade to cry...
..........
This letter... was my dream? Who even wrote this?!?!
"Ok Josh, I'm starting to freak!" I literally slammed the letter down to the dusty wooden table and try to keep cool
“Why?" He shrugged his shoulders, skidding through the pages like he was expecting some part of the story to be full of action or romance
“This letter was like dream I had the day before we decided to go through this trip! And I'm scared...”
“It oks Maggie" He rubs my shoulders and I kept cool, though the letter seemed weird.
“Besides... Maybe it was telling you that there was an unexplained past that no historian ever got! Maybe you'll be famous!"
“Famous alright..." I mused, I rather be a regular citizen than being famous just because of looking in a diary that no one ever got to see.
Josh was rather being a curious man... now seeing that we got something for this apocryphal topic. Witches... I guess it's not bad to look onto the diary a bit.
“So far...” Josh decided to explain stuff to me. "The person who wrote this diary is named Ali Proctor. And I guess her father got executed in August 19th 1692 accused of witchcraft.
“And the Mother died of a disease none have ever known back then, so I guess she lived by herself... this diary doesn't list the siblings. And she's only like 13 or 14 yrs. of age"
“That’s pretty terrible" I got a little downcast; I can hardly imagine living by myself without my family around. It felt... pretty horrible and lonely
“And I kind of skidded through the pages to see if there were anything else... but I thought we can read it together?"
“As long as you slow down, I'm a slow reader" I snickered to him and lumbered to his lap, leaning on his hard-core chest. "Let's get reading"
“Sure thing" He grins and flips to the page he was at and we began Ali's adventure again.
.........
August 30th 1692 Salem Village
It Began
Life was not simple anymore like it used to be. It has been 12 days since the ordeal hanging of my good and wealthy father. I should stop being so ruminated at this and start focusing on chores; hoping to get my clothes done. I snatched some iris plants so my dress can fit my thoughts of these years; barren, lambaste, and treacherous. I am the only member of the Proctor Family left thanks to those town members and the government. I just wish I can get them a piece of my mind but I will be severely punished and I bet my Momma and Papa don't want that. Elizabeth; my beautiful and loyal mother. Died of a disease when she was pregnant.
I looked around the forest I was in; bushes filled with death berries, the brown dirty earth I walk on and the long, vast Paper Birch trees. Being triumphant won't help me now with the Trials going on. My patterns are already muddy and stinky from going to this wet terrain. I hold up my petticoat a bit so it won't drag the mud and sprinted back to my wooden, poor home. I eyed at it again with the clouds in front of the bright, yellow sun. Not that it could help me warm up the keeping room, but I just don't want my pen to freeze. What am I kidding? Its summer... it shouldn't be that cold. I tightened clout making my darkish-orange hair that reached to my shoulders and began strolling back to my house and shuttled the door with ease.
I palpated the Black Cauldron with my cold and uneasy fingers of mine. Making sure there were no cracks or holes on the pot. Then I poured the Iris I gathered from the woods and water from the raging rivers. I debilitate the life out of the iris petals with the big rigorous stick and stirred the whole thing. The pressure and the heat surging my arms was unbearable. It felt like Satan was taking me to hell with this kind of pain; thrashing my skin over and over again. This was torture for me to go through this work all day and never have any fun.
My arms agile as soon as my hands loosened the stick and let it fall down the dye. Now I just need to sit and wait for this dumb dye to be dry. My hands led the bucket to point downward to the fire, letting the soft, and gloomy waters destroy the flames. Then I strolled back to the leftovers I had for dinner last night. Squirrel Meat and Corn Pudding seem fitting for a young woman like me. Heh and Men thought Women have no power? I am certain they will be dead wrong when I beat a Bear to death one time. I reached for the bible and set it aside the cup of apple cider and read the prayers of the bible like every other day:
Now all glory to God, who is able to keep me from falling away and will bring me with great joy into his glorious presence without a single fault. All glory to him who alone is God, our Savior through Jesus Christ our Lord. All glory, majesty, power, and authority are his before all time, and in the present, and beyond all time! Amen
I think I read the wrong verse but it sounded right so I ignored my wrong doings and continued to drink the cider. Since I am pretty much an Adult; I can sit down on the chairs instead of standing up while my childhood days. Remembering the people saying '14 year olds aren't allowed to sit down yet' but now's not the time for that bull crap of the rule. I sat down my spoon and knife and got right back to the Pot once again; it seemed to have dried well enough. I picked up the dye with the leftover doublets from my Father, dragging this heavy of a ton dye to the spinning wheel upstairs to the attic. It felt like forever and I also questioned how this weak and woody home can even support this dye. The spinning wheel was all ready to go and not even scratched like always when I got up there. Seemed to be able to make the clothing again.
Moving the drive band from one whorl to another, I changed the ratio/speed from 20 to 14; making the clothing a little easier to spin the wool. My body treadles the wheel, making it turns and flyer and bobbin rotates during the progress of clothing chores. The dye went through the drive band going all the way around with the wheel and rolling down to the tables looking flat as a wheat plant; I continued working like that making another set of a attached white apron and bonnet on the long and silky purple dress, hm not bad for a kid like me. I twisted the knob to the other small room for my clothes and fragile old toys and farming tools and furnished the new clothing to the room, folding it nicely and perfectly as usual.
I took the hoe, the rake, the shovel, and the watering can with me; making trips back and forth to the back of the house; outside with my garden and the old' yellow straw hat. Taking off my clout; I tightened my head with the hat and strutted with fatigue conditions in my body with a heavy shovel to plant new tomatoes and corn. I dug the bad rocks out of the soil throwing them out through the barricade surrounding my home and I lifted my hand little higher than the hole and managed to drop the seeds down to the airless dirt. I dragged the dirt against the seeds putting them back where they belong and water them with the remaining life source they got. The only sounds I hear right now are birds and the townspeople. Mumbles, Compliant, and Rumors are still spreading like wildfire, and their eyes observing me like I was a Criminal; waiting for them to laugh at me.
But what did I do wrong was the point of this... It's not like I did one bad deed. Well... maybe that part when I was involved with playing with toddlers but that still doesn't count. Now the talking has turn to garrulous conversations to me; it's wearing me out. I think it's another false accusation of another witch. God... can they stop doing these damn trials. Giles Corey is their next victim, he's just traveling by with his axe and his faithful cat... wait... when did he get a cat?!
This cat... with his orangish fur with a little bit of white stripes and green eyes... Man, now he really is in trouble! I don't know if either he owned the cat or the cat is following him like a dog would with a rich man. I wish him luck... Hope he won't be hanged...
“‘hello my wonderful maiden" ... SHIT! Not him! Please God... not now... DAMN! It is! He wore a white shirt with a laced collar. His pants and coat were made of silk, and the shoes and hat were made out of leather. How did I know this? I made them for him at England when I was pretty much a 9 year old. He belonged to a rich family and they moved to Salem because they wanted to be out of the English Rule. But he picked the village; which was for the poor farmers because I was 'LIVING' there! God... Help me almighty lord. “What you want?"
“I wanted to see how my depressed wife is; you have been lonely for a couple of weeks." He gives me that "flirty" grin... Hope that is a sin to Flirt.
“I’ve been doing fine wi-" Forgot... If I talk back... I get punished... wait... isn't that for women who talk back to their husbands? Yeah... I can say whatever I want to him... maybe not threaten him to get away but kindly ask him to leave. "-thout them. I know it's hard now since I got a lot of work, but I can manage growing stuff just fine thank you very much" I grunted and was able to get the "English Primer" out of the crates and read a bit of the stories. I loved the stories when they tell you what happens to children if they aren't good... It's pretty much persuading enough for children to believe this crap; which I'm one of the children. I'm guessing Poetry seems to fit in too.
"I knew from the moment I said hello,
that I would never let you go.
When we opened up our hearts,
I knew that the love would never depart.
And I'd do anything,
Yes, I mean everything.
My love, I'd do anything…
Just to be with you.
Whenever we are drawn apart
by some force that can't be stopped,
just remember my love is always with you.
You have my spirit and my heart.
And I'd do anything,
Yes, I mean everything.
My love, I'd do anything…
Just to be with you.
Now when life seems hard to bear,
and when it feels like no one cares,
I'm here for you.
I'm here for life.
I will love you…
Until the day I die!
And I'd do anything,
Yes, I mean everything.
My love, I'd do anything…
Just to be with you.
This is for My Love: Ali."
“When the hell did u place this paper in my book?!" I can't believe I almost skipped a beat from reading this thing; stupid women hearts.
“I knew I will be able to exhort your true feelings my darling" He bows to me... when people are watching us... Please jealous girls. I'll pay you a lot of money just to kill me and make me go to hell for this! My eyes try to focus on the Cat; that orangish white striped cat with green eyes. It sits on the fence surrounding my log home, licking his paw without the care in the world. “Yeah look... Dillian. I can honestly say it's a nice poem but I am not interested in being you-"
“You’re what?" He lifted one eye up with the other one closed, curious and genteel. I kept staring at the cat; it was walking to me! It jumps up on the crates and purrs on my waist like I had been taking care of it. “Please tell me I am not seeing this..."
“Your not..." Dillian's face was as pale as mine; both staring at the happy cat. Cats were meant to die because people thought they were agents of Satan; if he gets beautiful cats like this... I wonder if he's also handsome. Its eyes glittered onto me like I should protect it from being killed. But what happens if it's true? What if Satan will hear what I have done and come take me away because I rescued its agents? Well... Better than that rich snot kid I guess... Can't believe he's actually 16; he seems like a 12 year old following me around thinking I don't see him.
“I’ll be right back...” I scurried away to the forest to get my head thinking straight; to my short notice the cat followed me like a child following its mother. Help me! I managed to jump from one dry spot to another on the dirt surrounding the mud puddle, lifting the petticoat up a bit. Cat followed my steps like he was trying to see if he can do what a human can do. My anger and stress will soon be peevish; it's too bad I can't let it out or people will think I'm possessed by one and I need to point out a random innocent person.
The cat nudged my skirt a bit telling me to follow him and ran off to the bushes. To my surprise, I followed his order going through rugged bushes filled with sharp brown twigs and rocky dirt roads almost banging my toes against them and hurting my soles on the feet. I felt the wind going against me as I was trying to keep up with the cat. My hands steadied my straw hat so that it would not fly off. To my realization, the Cat stopped his motion looking down hill. I stopped to catching my breath and wanting my lungs to get more energy. My eyes looked up a bit to see a female figure only a hill away.
Her hair... was so straight and silky like a dye on the spinning wheel today; all red like a pretty little rose. Ooooh... and her clothing seemed weird. It seemed to be just a long brown dress with no petticoats, no clouts, and it doesn't seem very loose. It looked just perfect on her showing her thighs, chest, and waist. The arms though, it seemed to be very lose. It looked like she added too much dye so the sleeves look very long on her; right to her hands and the rest are just hanging from there. I glanced at the cat, and he pointed his head to her like I had to drag her back to my house. Raising my brows, I looked back and forth; to the witch and to the town. That thing expects me to carry this girl?!
I remained tranquil as I tried to find a perfect spot to carry her; going up the hill again and back to the house seemed hard work. Then my eyes... they found something... A hat... no not a hat... not the right word. A cone hat with handles like a straw hat and his all soft like someone made it. It can't be... am I helping a witch? No. not possible. It can't be. I felt vehemently sure that this is not a witch; I haven't been possessed yet. I tugged her against my back, wrapping my arms under her sitting body-part and I climbed back to the top with my feet and the rocks sticking out; with the cat trotting with me like usual.
As I go through the forest once again; I remember the walks I always go to with my Mom. She always told me of the wonderful nature and draws me the beautiful paintings of nature with the materials she used; dye, water, ink, and her feather pen. Plus with full focus and imagination; she created a masterpiece. Too bad she left them behind at the old house; she can't do them anymore and I really would love to gaze at its beauty once again. I got back to the House before sunset and before the Watchmen was doing the job. I got inside with my teeth twisting the knob and pulling the door with my feet. I managed to get her to Jack-Beds my father built for me, my mom, and himself. I dropped her to the highest Jack-Bed and returned to the tables reading through the English Primer. I kept watch on those two. That Cat was keeping guard.
“Who said you can be the watchperson?" I stated to the cat randomly. I rolled my eyes and kept reading and skidding through the crappy stories
“My Friend" A sudden voice made me jump; I was appalled when that suddenly was heard. My head jerked around the room like crazy; is a witch watching me?! Is it Satan?! Is it God?! I was panicking.
“Calm down, it's only me." I turned my direction to the voice and it lead to that cat.
“So you are the agent of Satan!" I yelped out of nowhere.
“No... I'm a friend of Eliza." He commented at my response. “She has been asleep for a couple of days now; you can tell that she is alive breathing fine and healthy."
“Why the hell did u want me to bring your 'friend' to my house?"
“Better than laying on the snow freezing to death." The cat nodded his head; it had a male voice.
“The Name is Ranto, and if you don't take care of my friend; you will not have a pretty experience."
“Better than marrying a snotty kid." I snorted back at him.
“Fine. I'll tell you the reason tomorrow... Just get some sleep." He yawns and lies down on Eliza's Stomach. I stare at that 'thing' for moments before I go up the attic; lay on the soft feathers against my cold and tired body.
I flicker the lamp on and my eyes drifted to slumber |
Submission Name: The Colonial Witch: Reunions and War 
