1692- Salem Witch Hunts

1692
Salem Massachusetts

Since Tituba admitted to being a witch, our small town has gone to hell. The girls who used to sit behind me in the small schoolhouse now writhe in pain, screaming that yet another person is a witch. I knew them. All of them. And yet, sitting here now, I can honestly say that I wish I didn’t. I wish that Tituba had told the jury she wasn’t a witch. Lie or not- it would have been better for us all.
We wouldn’t be here now, watching woman after woman hang on the hill. Their bodies casting dark shadows over our faces- dead eyes closing as breath is made no more. Are we really better than they? No. We too are martyrs, pointing fingers and spitting lies faster than spitting breath.
And just as I think leaving is best, just when I have the question of leaving on my tongue, the taste of freedom on my breath, she screams.

Name: Edmund Laurence.
Age: 17
Looks: Tall- lean, and very built. He's six foot one and has dark hair and eyes.
Gender: Male
Have You Been Accused?: No
Where You Are: (School, Jail, Home) Home
Do You Have Children?:No
Are You Married?:No



Name:
Age:
Looks:
Gender:
Have You Been Accused?:
Where You Are: (School, Jail, Home)
Do You Have Children?:
Are You Married?:

You can be whomever. just complete the thought... or start a new one. whatever. XD.

Name: Jasmin
Age: 16
Gender: female
Have You Been Accused?: no
Where You Are: out in the market
Do You Have Children?: no
Are You Married?:no
Looks:

(okay... would you like to start?))

cn u d the first post...?

Okay.

Edmund: I ran, as fast as my tired toes would carry me. Down the long hall, towards the noise I had heard on and off all month. Screams. This time, it came from outside, in the market square. I ran barefooted to the circle- hoping that the girls hadn't chosen my mother or father.

Jasmine sat there and watched the sceene play out. Her entire body shook with fear and she stood in the back. Her dress had been dragging on the ground and it was covered in mud. She shivered in the cold and closed her eyes. The girls.. they were her friends.. how could they do this?

Edmund: I sighed, relieved it wasn't my mother. I rushed forward to see who the victim was this time. A beggar, a salesman, perhaps the new southern family's midwife who accidentally spilled pea soup and was caught mopping it up with a white towel she stole from Annie's game closet. He held his breath. Or it could be her.

Jasmine saw Edmund awhile away. She felt a sinking feeling entire her body. She walked to get a closer look st him. 'what was he doing there....'