I peeled open my eyes, feeling the cloth beneath me. It feels like night now but I can see the light shine through the logs on my roof. I pushed myself from my unsteady bed and walked downstairs. My brother, Devrik, greeted me with a good-bye as he walked out the door to work with our father in the fields. Today was my day to milk the cow. I walked over to my chest in the corner of the room. 'Lillian Cartwright' was engraved into the chest. I shuffled my hands through the chest looking for my Bible. I soon picked up the leather wrapped book and placed it on the table side next to the chest. I went back to the chest and picked up my skirt my aunt had just made for me and started to wash it. I then went outside to lay it on the string outside to dry. If mother was still here, she'd probably make my skirts for me. She'd probably brush my shoulder length copper hair and …show more content…
Silence. No giggling, no bells chiming. That means only one thing: Someone's been accused as a witch. We walked towards where the witches are normally killed. I've never liked watching people kill innocent people. I wonder who it was this time. "If you call this black magic love!" "Repent! Repent!" A crowd of people roared. Jordan and I raced towards where the murder was taking place. As we came into sight of the townspeople a defining scream shattered our ears. I looked to see who to victim was. My stomach dropped. Even though she was engulfed in flames, I'd notice that raven black hair anywhere. "Elisabeth!" I screeched causing my voice to crack. I ran up to the crowd surrounding the event. I pushed my way through hundreds of people. I emerged my way to the front and stumbled in front of Elisabeth. I looked up as the heat warmed my face. The smell of burnt flesh and hair sizzled the air as the logs popped and cracked. Tears escaped my eyes. My knees buckled beneath me and I fell. Expecting to hit the ground, I went limp only to be prompt up by God knows
I woke up at John Morris’ house, on his coach. As I knocked a flyaway hair out of my face I noticed my face was wet, with tears, and then it all hit me at once that my Dad and Mrs. Borden were dead. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I heard John Morris ask if I was alright, but that seemed like a completely different world, I responded with a meek okay, so Mr. Morris wouldn’t see me like this. That didn’t work though, I saw his tall shadowy figure ducking under the door frame with tea. As Mr. Morris sat down and put the tea on the coffee table in front of us, I turned my head and quickly wiped the tears from my eyes in hopes he wouldn’t see.
Hysteria took over the town and caused them to believe that their neighbors were practicing witchcraft. If there was a wind storm and a fence was knocked down, people believed that their neighbors used witchcraft to do it. Everyone from ordinary people to the governor’s wife was accused of witchcraft. Even a pregnant woman and the most perfect puritan woman were accused. No one in the small town was safe.
“Change happens by listening then starting a dialogue with the people who are doing something you don't believe is right.” Jane Goodall is one of the few people to take a closer look at the intricate nature of chimpanzees. She was born in London, England in 1934. Her first interaction with chimpanzees started at an early age when she received a doll from her parents. She received many worried complaints from her friends' parents telling her that chimpanzees were dangerous and unpredictable. Jane fell in love with the creatures. She looked the way of the island of Gambe and never turned back.
Carlson, Laurie M. A Fever in Salem: A New Interpretation of the New England Witch Trials. Chicago: I.R. Dec, 1999. Print.
Kent, Deborah. Witchcraft Trials: Fear, Betrayal, and Death in Salem. Library ed. Berkeley Heights, NJ: Enslow, 2009. Print.
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
As accusations of witchcraft begin to surface, the town takes on a gloom of suspicion. Innocent people look at each other critically; children start having to lie about theirs' secrets: "What are you concealing?
With only the moon and stars to guide her, she picked her way down to the trucks, where a few embers of the fire remained. She could hear something that sounded like wind On the ground were unidentifiable lumps that seemed to be moving in the nonexistent breeze. On the front of one of the looming vehicles was a blood stain. Emmaline crept toward it. On her way there she accidentally stepped on one of the lumps and heard a man-like squawk. She looked down and saw two eyes glistening in the moonlight and an open mouth still. She slowly turned around in a circle. The lumps that Emmaline had assumed to be tree stumps earlier were now rising from the ground and shouting. Fear was welling up inside Emmaline but she told herself to stay brave for Edgar’s sake and she let out a deafening battle cry and charged at the nearest man. He ran towards the blood-stained truck and jumped up into the cab, Emmaline close behind. The soldier shut the door in Emmaline’s face and she turned around. The other men were all packing up as fast as they could. Emmaline stayed until every truck had left, watching silently with an evil glare. Then she raced back up the hill to join her Father and
Roper is addressing an array of complex emotional reactions that accused witches exhibited during the interrogation process. The physical threat of torture, the social repercussions of the examination, and the various responses of the accused all contributed to the “extreme physical and emotional states” that comprised the examination and interrogation
Tears flooded my face as I let her hand go. I love my mother dearly, but without father I had to be the head of the house. The one to take charge in times like these. She was in not in a good place of mind to be rational. Why had father forsaken us like this, why couldn't we just go home and be with him. The thoughts swirled around my head but the next thing I knew was mother laying on the ground in pain. Her face crinkled and puffy as she clenched her stomach in the delicate hands.
Today was the day we went to the O’brien family farm to say our last goodbyes. I slipped on shorts and threw on a shirt. i securely fastened my ballcap to my head and slid my Grandpa’s pocket knife into my pocket. The thirty minute drive through rural Illinois was filled of rolling hills, and golden wheat. Rows of dull yellow Corn stalks went on as far as the eye could see. The road was smooth and accepted the cars as they glided across its surface. I lightly slid my finger across the cold metal point of my knife. Thinking what my grandpa thought as he made the drive through this very
It was the middle of the night when my mother got a phone call. The car ride was silent, my father had a blank stare and my mother was silently crying. I had no idea where we were headed but I knew this empty feeling in my stomach would not go away. Walking through the long bright hallways, passing through an endless amount of doors, we had finally arrived. As we
When she came to, Katherine’s body was racked with an insurmountable amount of pain. She felt like she’d topple over at the slightest gust of wind. The girl knew she’d have to call 911. She’d have to explain that her mother had attacked her, that she’d tried to gut her with a bread knife. Her movements were slow, jerky, and painful, and every breath, every step she took caused a wave of searing pain throughout her
I went to see Dorris and Charley at-least every other day, watching Dorris's life fade, and Charley's heart break just a little more each day as time passed. In the wee hours on September 28th, of this year, about 1 o-clock in the morning I had received a horrid phone call. Charley's desperate, crackling voice called to tell me, “Mom just passed away honey”. I was hit with sadness as a tear rolled down my cheek the more I listened to Charley. I wanted to leave my house right then to go comfort Charley but with school coming so early in the morning I had to wait until later that
I can remember sitting in my small twin-sized bed, cold and alone, at midnight, listening to my strong and independent mother cries through the walls, because of the situation that we were in; this left me, at such a young and vulnerable age, confused and unsure of my families’ future. My adolescent mind could not understand the rough times that my mother faced each and every day, and I knew she didn’t deserve any of the hardships