"Featured" Salem Villager Journal Entries

September 2, 1692

    Lucifer was right. John Proctor is dead. And the village riot is worse than a slave up-rising in the South. I guess the only difference now would be that one of these would actually succeed in getting their point across.

    John died with the moon, entering the ground as the Sun gave life to a new day. After watching the noose grow tight around his neck in our town square, I was informed that the reason that he was hanged is because he just couldn’t bring himself to stain his name. At least he died a humble and honest man, keeping his name as clean as our golden cross. I saw many men cry out of anger as he was hanged. I saw many boys cry in fear that they were next, that if they could execute a man like John...then what could save them? What could save me?

I saw wives cry as fear washed over their mind at the thought of their husbands being next in line. And through all of this, I saw children running freely and living as if nothing had occurred. I figure that they are too young to understand what happened or maybe their young souls just don’t care since, in the end, it doesn’t really affect them. Either way, it was a weird moment to live in. Tears of sadness and of fear accompanied with a mixture of excited shrieks and uncontrolled laughter.

     Although John is dead, his spirit of justice and honesty burns intensely within the souls of the townspeople. I have heard word of overthrowing the imposed court. I agree with those that choose to fight for true justice. Our people has had an overwhelming dose of death, being handed over even when they’ve had enough to fill. As much as I support, I will still not dare step into that court. We no longer call the court a court, we have addressed a nickname to it; God's grave. If Our Lord cared for his people and if His light truly shined onto our community, why does He do nothing?  Is He dead?  When the people of God enter this “court,” all of their prayers are useless because the Judges don’t give a damn.

This is the place where we follow God into his grave.

August 27, 1693

We have been sailing for many moons now. Days seem to go by with the blink of an eye. Sneeze and you might miss an entire week. My cabinmates seem to wander the ship with no purpose, they probably forgot why they decided to go to the New Land in the first place. But I haven’t forgotten, my purpose is clear. My dear uncle was one of the brave Puritans who settled at Plymouth back in 1620, he ended up living there for the rest of his days with his beautiful wife and son. Sadly, dear Uncle passed away about a month ago. That’s why I’m traveling to the Americas, to inherit what my Uncle left on Earth before he ascended into the sky. According to his will, he’s left ownership of his home in a ghost town called Salem. If I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t travel all the way across the Atlantic just to look at some dead relatives’ house. I plan on staying there. My life back in England had lost its purpose years ago and after my wife had passed away I saw no point in staying there. She was the only one who I felt a genuine connection with. I haven’t talked to my mother and father in what feels like forever, that’s why I didn’t tell them I was moving to Salem. I wanted a fresh start, a clean sleight, a place where I can run away and not face my problems. Some might call me immature for not facing them but with enough time, ill forever about my problems and I’ll be busy living my new life.   

I woke up today to the sound of seagulls flying around the ship. We finally made it to the coast. I grabbed my belongings and made my way to the deck. All the migrants shimmied off the ship one by one, all they’re clothes wet and dirty from months at sea. I could just imagine how bad we must smell to the colonist, that would explain the dirty looks they gave me when I got off the ship. I hitched a ride on horse to Salem, a nice old man by the name of Shepard told me about the town. Very few colonists lived there, a handful of families settled there and that’s about it. That’s completely different from what I was used to. I used to live in downtown London, in some cramped apartment with about two other families, all struggling with staying alive. Their father would work day and night just to come home and pass out of exhaustion. I worried my life would end up like that, it terrified me. I have ambition for my future, I want excitement in my life, but then again what kind of excitement can I find in Salem? As I paid Shepard for the ride to town, I looked around and took in what the town had to offer, which wasn’t much. A church in the center of town accompanied by a graveyard and to the right further up a hill where a handful of homes. I wonder who I’d meet in this town. I wonder what this place had in store for me.

August 28^th, 1692

The single, simple, but painful word seems to be engraved into my thoughts. Sin is all that has been engraved in my thoughts. My name is John Proctor and I am barely acknowledging that Salem will never be the same as it was. As I begin to explain how Salem began to go corrupt, I am going to fully admit that I am no saint and I know what I have commited is wrong. I have a secret, a flaw that goes against a commandment. I have committed adultery with Abigail Williams,an unmarried orphan in Salem. This is how the hysteria of witchcraft began. You see my wife, Elizabeth Proctor realized the sin I committed with Abigail and soon after she dismissed Abigail from being our maid. Not many Salemians realize what sins that adolescents are capable of committing. We spend most of time reading the bible, praising God, and learning how to pray that we have no time to spare to acknowledge sins or giving attention to the youth. I have heard rumors of Betty Parris becoming ill when she was out in the woods with Abigail. These Salemians do not know what Abigail is capable of, she is very deceiving and acts as if she is a saint. Yet something urged me to visit Betty. I know my reason for visiting Betty want to see Abigail. I know the sin I have committed with Abigail is wrong but as soon as I came across Abigail or even hear her name, I began to fall for her again.  When I visited Parris and saw Abby she began to use the same tone the night I committed adultery;  I immediately stop speaking with lust. Abby begins to become persistent and reminds me of the love I once felt for her. When I reflect back to night I committed these sins Abby speaks of, that is when I realize Abigail repeatedly denied being involved with witchcraft to save herself. How can someone be so selfish? How could she let Betty become associated with witchcraft? When I began to question myself I see Abigail’s jealousy of my wife , and her repulsiveness to accuse innocents to try and gain her position as my wife. How dare Abby speak so wrongly of my beloved wife and cause Salem to be involved with the Devil. How could I have let myself commit such sin? How could a city such as Salem become corrupt? That is when I realize no one is a perfect saint; everyone is so concerned on themselves that we let a child destroy all of Salem. The people here in Salem praise God and attend church, if they have a good reputation. Perhaps that is why my wife did not want to attend church after she had found out I would look up at Abigail’s window. I am just a corrupt as the witches in Salem. The people here in Salem seem to enjoy another neighbor’s struggles so they can strive and grow a well-known reputation. Maybe Salem was destined to go become affiliated with witchcraft so we could see how imperfect everyone is.

August 20th, 1692

The other day I heard rumors of there being unnatural happenings throughout Salem. I passed by a group of distraught citizens who spoke of witchcraft within our city which I did not find in my mind to be true. However, today I awoke to hear that my neighbor, a usually kind and quiet woman, was accused of being a witch. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Everyone she treated so kindly and that she assumed to be her friends were practically begging she be hung for her “mischievous actions”. I wouldn’t completely blame them for their behavior because fear is one of the strongest emotions that can be most persuasive in situations such as this one but it was heartbreaking to hear them scream such horrid things at her.

August 24th, 1692

Today was the day of my neighbors execution. No matter how much I wanted to go and stop it, I couldn’t find myself able to move at all. After finding out that the accusers that have been accusing people left and right are only girls of around 16, my mind was riddled with questions. The biggest one being, “why are these young girls trusted so freely with these people’s lives?”. I feel like I’m the only one thinking about how wrong this is and I want to discuss it with the others in Salem, but I’m not quite sure if I should or not.

August 26th, 1692

This morning I decided that I would be bringing my thoughts to the attention of the others in Salem. I rallied up some people and shared my thoughts on the cities “witchcraft” situation. Not much was said afterwards. In fact, nothing was said at all. I am convinced that the thought of witchcraft has been burned into their minds and as a result everyone is scared half to death. Though that may be the case for them, I am not easily shaken by this black magic tomfoolery.

August 30th, 1692

I truly understand what fear is. Waking up to find out that you have been deemed a witch is enough to scare anyone. I suppose word got around to the wrong people about my opinions of the witchcraft in Salem and I am now met face to face with reality. I am not sure who it is that has sealed my fate but all I know is that I am innocent. However, no matter how innocent I am, I know that my pleads will bring me no success. All I hope is that the children at fault for the deaths of so many ,including mine, receive their justice. Whether it be in Salem or in Hell.

August 31^st  1692

Things are going too far. When I first found out about the accusations, I didn’t take them serious at all. I thought this was a huge joke pulled off by some kids, however, last night my mother was taken from my home forcefully by a man stating he had an arrest warrant for her and many of the others in town. I know I was supposed to be in bed with my other siblings but hearing all of the shouting from downstairs was too much to bear. How is one supposed to be able to sleep through such a thing? Especially when the ones shouting are your parents. I’m worried about what they will do to not only my mother but to the others as well. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, I just want things to be normal again.

September 5^th, 1692

I arrived home from court a while ago. I sat and watched my mother’s case unfold before me. It was a horrible thing to see my mom cry as people yelled at her to “admit her sins” or that she needed to be punished for her “heinous crimes”. She isn’t the bad guy here, it’s the people who easily fall for rumors. Everyone in that court, everyone in town. It seems to be that faith and hope have left these people’s souls and has now been replaced by lust and hatred. If that is the case then maybe I should contribute to the cause as well. It’s all fun and games until you’re accused too. I hope that’s what goes through their heads when they get pointed out as just another damned witch.

September 7^th, 1692

I did it. Yesterday I sent in a report to the court asking they interrogate Mrs. Williams, a woman who lives fairly close by and whom my mother would talk to every now and then. She was one of the women who sat on the opposing side at my mom’s sentencing and whether she was once my mom’s friend or not, she didn’t support her when she needed it most so I want her to know how my mother felt. She will be tried today and I’m going to sit there and watch her cry and beg for mercy with a smile on my face.

August 31^st, 1692

Dear John, I am writing this letter to let you know that I going to be long gone from Salem. I have no intentions on returning to Salem. My final decision is go as far away from Salem as I can, I have finally realized the damage I have brought upon this once Holy city. Everything that I did was for a reason, it was because I was deeply in love with you John. The lust I had for you caused me become affiliated with the devil and witchcraft. My deepest condolences are with you, I meant no harm but my way of trying to show my love was not only hurting you, but it was hurting Salem as a whole.

I tried everything to get rid of Elizabeth because I knew you still loved me. The day you claimed to visit Betty was the day I promised myself I would not hold back myself from trying to take Elizabeth’s position. How can you love such a scum like Elizabeth? I did unspeakable things for you John. This is me confessing that I did dance with the devil.I am the one responsible for gathering all the girls with Tituba in the woods. I planned for Betty to become ill. It was so you could have a reason to come and visit me at Parris’ house. I did all of this so we could have a future together. If I would not have lied to Hale they would have caught onto us John. After all I had done for you, you repaid me by hurting me. I want so ecstatic to finally see you again when you came to see Betty. But your words were so blunt and lacked love. Your words would never meet your actions, all I know is that I love you more than it does. No matter how much you tried to push me away I was always there to try and lead you back to me. That is why when I came across Mary at the trials, she promised to get rid of Elizabeth. Not even she could withstand such a person as cold as Elizabeth. That is when she began came up with the idea of framing Elizabeth as a witch. I watched Mary Warren as she created the puppet.

Towards the end of the trial she struck the puppet with a needle about two inches deep. Mary did warn me that I needed to harm myself to frame Elizabeth. I did not care, I carried on with the plan. After the trial I stabbed myself 2 inches deep and claimed that it was Elizabeth who possessed such hatred towards me and used witchcraft to injury me. I know you still think wrong about me for committing such sins, but remember that a sin like adultery does not require one person. 

John if I would have confessed all my sins I would have immediately been claimed as a witch. All of Salem would have known about the sin we committed.That is why I lied and blamed others for the mysterious acts of witchcraft. I’m devoted to you John Proctor, I hope you still feel the same after I have confessed all my sins to you.  I know deeply in my heart that if Elizabeth wasn’t your wife. You would claim me as your wife. I still love you John, if you ever decide to love me back the way I do send me a letter. I will send you my location and no one from Salem has to ever know.

August 31, 1692

       Things have gotten out of hand. It’s reminds me of when I no older than 7 years, I loved chickens and caring for them. At first it’s amusing and fun, but the more chickens I got, more responsibility and less fun came to be. At some point, all the chickens would simply irritated me to the point that I wanted nothing to do with them ever again. Let’s just say we feasted like the King back in Europe that Thanksgiving evening.

     I, too, thought the idea of witchcraft in Salem was refreshing, all you hear around is how the power of God is greater than any other force and that His love encompasses all seen and unseen things...even witchcraft. That’s why they had half the town incarcerated...hoping they would confess themselves onto God’s boundaryless love. I believe that even those who are not guilty of witchcraft should still profess Gods love. The part that gets me frustrated and angry is that they have taken John Proctor prisoner of the state. Supposedly, he confessed to adultery and tried to take Abby down with him along the way, but she saw birds flying towards her and said that Proctor had done it. Or maybe Abby blamed her friend Mary Warren for the birds, I’m not too sure in what to believe in anymore.

But one thing is written in stone, John will hang. The last time the Barbados lady and I met in the forest to perform a sort of spell, Lucifer showed me darkness and fire and a figure drawn in the ashy sands of Hell; John Proctor with a noose strung tightly around his tense neck.

     Even with this knowledge, I could not have done anything with it anyway. I swore my soul that I would not. And whatever pact that is made with Lucy...cannot be undone. I did not forsee the rest of the townspeople being thrown behind bars over false, self-motivated accusations. Nor did I see bodies upon bodies with loose necks being buried shallowly neath the ground, letting the living smell how it is like to be dead. I also would have never imagined so many loose livestock roaming freely, eating the untended vegetation of the guilty. My mother would always tell me that a rotten tomato is the worst  odor to exist...again...she was wrong.

    If given the chance, I don’t think that I would go into court and testify that John is a good hearted man by showing them what he has done for my family. There’s too great a risk. I would probably be discovered of my old practices and would burn me alive at the stake for my pact with Lucy. I rather live a life trying to change my engraved habits than to die for a man who has already been prophesied to die by Lucifer himself. I wonder if God has anything to say on that.

          

My father would tell me that his generation was told that old, stray, hungry dogs could smell your fear if they got a whiff of it or sometimes when you did not even know it was there!     

I would have not last three golden seconds in that court!  after all …

  

...isn’t that what all judges are?

09-05-18

I committed something worse than a sin. Last night I went with other girls from the town where Tituba started to conduct magical evil powers, known as witchcraft and decided to cast a spell. The girls and I danced in the middle of the night in the forest while Tituba was intoning unintelligible words and waving her arms over a fire. I drank chicken blood in an attempt to cast a spell that would kill Elizabeth Proctor. My love for John Proctor made me do it. Proctor and I have an affair while I worked as a servant at their house. The one man I want however is married to a woman who is not good enough for him. I hate Goody Proctor but nobody must know. I am way better than that Goody Elizabeth Proctor. There are so many differences between us, we are like day and night. She is a naive, sickly, simple woman. I, on the other hand, am an adventure. I am knowledgeable, healthy, and certainly far from simple. Why any man would be lucky to have me. Elizabeth should just disappear. I am a beautiful young woman. John should really just leave her and marry me. I am way better than her. I would be a great wife unlike her. For if Elizabeth had been enough I would have never known real love. Surely this woman he calls his wife, must have threatened him. There is no other explanation for John refusing to see me. That woman has cursed him surely. Wow, how I hate her for keeping my love and me apart. There is nothing she can do that I can not. She can clean, cook, and be at peace with God. Well, I can do all those things and more. The sooner John realizes this, the sooner we can live happily ever after. All I can say now is that I will have my revenge on Goody Proctor. Once I put in a claim that she is she is a witch the whole town will see what a fake she really is. Here is my plan. I will claim that she is a witch and with all the evidence and witness that I will come up with she will die. Now that my plan is in motion I just need to trick the silly little Mary Warren into helping me, though she will never know that she is really helping me with her mistress death. I will see Elizabeth hang, and Proctor will be mine, even if it is the last thing I ever do... Currently I am writing this from the Salem General court where we are giving the names of those we believe to be advocates of the Devil. On the day of Tituba helping us to conjure the spirits, my sole motive was to kill Goody Proctor and to finally be with Proctor. Considering that that had failed, I am forced to take action within the court, by declaring that she is a witch.

- Sincerely, Abigail Williams xxx

09-07-18

I knew Goody Proctor knew I had had an affair with Proctor. I blackmailed John by saying that if he told this, I would tell him about his affair with me which would blacken both his name and the name of his family. The latter reason would drive Proctor into hiding the truth further because of the love and care he felt for his family, like any man would. The last thing I was informed was that Cheever had collected his wife and she was on her way back to the centre of the village of Salem. Hopefully, things will stay as good as they have been so far, and I finally get to rid myself of Elizabeth once and for all. However, Mary Warren is a traitor. She seeks redemption to be reckoned with. I can not allow her to make a fool out of me and the other girls. Even though she spoke the truth our reputations have higher values, it was her foolishness that led John to claiming adultery on me. He gave up his good name for that sake of his wife, and to put an end to me. My body shuddered when Mr. Danforth called Elizabeth in. Luckily, Elizabeth in her ignorance for honor of her husband, claimed no lehery. I was free to bring reckoning out of hell for Mary. We all put her on the spot and saw her as a demon, a former demon that betrayed us. We would yet see her condemned!!! But, without thought of her connection to John, I led on. I did not suspect first hand that she would claim to sign the devil's book at the insisting of John. I should have known pushing her would come to this. My beloved John is now convicted of using the devils power to control Mary and him in jail. It is Mary's fault, not mine , that John has such a fate. She has given a false accusation against him, not me, so she will pay on Judgement Day. May God have mercy on her soul. 

I woke up today, believing today would be all about Betty, and Uncle Parris would be crying over her still body. The one thing that has been replayed through my mind throughout the course of the day was whether it was worth the trouble of conjuring the spirits, and going through all this trouble linked in with it. The first reason that I wanted to go through with the witchcraft was because I had to be with John! To do this, I needed to get rid of the old Elizabeth Proctor for good. It was the only way that John would ever accept his rightful place, with me by his side. Lastly, being the niece of Reverend Parris meant that he kept you on a tight leash, in order to both, keep his high reputation maintained throughout the village and to keep us out of the ways of the Devil.

- Sincerely, Abigail Williams xxx  

The date was 1692 during a cold winter night, it seemed that the weather outside would never seem to remain serene. Especially during these dark times, being a believer in the faith of the lord remains strong within my spirits as it’s one of the few aspects that I hold onto. I’m but a simple writer expressing my voice through the pages and I wish to live an adequate life, to say the least. However, during my travels, my true wish was to achieve peace and practice between both my faith, writing and remaining family. This is when it occurred, the series of events that caused my peace to unfortunately end abruptly. The minister’s daughter Elizabeth Parris and his niece Abigail Williams were regarded to be practicing fortune-telling or witchcraft within this quiet Puritan community. My knowledge and perception of the events that transpired that night were skewed due to the accusations that followed shortly after the word of the unspeakable devil. Due to this, I felt that I can’t trust anyone besides myself and my beloved daughter since I felt worried for mine and her safety as we could be accused next. I used to have someone I could trust in this godforsaken world, but he now resides with the deceased, those that are laid out to be judged between both heaven and hell. I miss my beloved husband whose life was taken away from me, but I will still have God be my witness as he watches over my daughter and I since I know we shouldn’t be accused of anything especially as preposterous as the devil. It’s difficult to confront the matter of the devil looming in our small village of Salem, but it may seem as though everyone is out of their minds out of fear of paranoia as I am to seeking refuge for safety. It is tough to cope with such an unexpected tragedy during this cold winter night, but now I only have fear in my heart and may suffer for what will happen next. I fear for my daughter Elizabeth and for our own safety, due to the accusations of the already accused Thirty-nine individuals. Another thing on my mind on the current state of events is that everyone was so quick to accuse each other after the magistrates and imperial courts got involved. I can assume that most individuals would act the same way if their beliefs were to be questioned so harshly and unexpectedly of course many would try to plead innocent when in fact they may be guilty. I believe if such people were to actually be guilty, it’s both an act of heresy and a way to preserve their current power among the chaos that’s already begun. To that end, I feel even though I’ve lived in Salem for about a couple of months, it’s still hard to grasp the current situation of individuals who should work harmoniously together in the name of the lord to turn against one another. This work of the devil is quite a travesty and uneasy situation for those who are accused of being witches, but I feel no sympathy for those who’ve actually committed crimes in the name of the devil and relinquish any thoughts otherwise. All this stress and pressure I feel as the night goes by and commotion outside makes me feel worried for the future ahead of us. Especially since now it’s become much more of a serious matter for not only the accused, but for the innocent as well. If anything is to happen, I pray to God that they only seize me and not Elizabeth. I couldn’t imagine a world without another lost loved one, especially if it’s due to the devil’s actions. Damn those wretched women Abigail and Tituba why were they in the forest this night? Why must these rumors of witchery harm those in Salem? So many questions arise, “oh what would my dear husband do in this situation?” If he was here he would of taken his life as he once did for us in the past, so if the time does come I must protect Elizabeth with all my being as God and my husband watch over us this tragic night.

-Sarah Palmer, Salem January 15^th, 1692.

As expected the fear that I held this terrible night was justified once I heard a knock on my front door. I began to reflect on the actions that the people of Salem have taken this night and acted promptly to the action that I fear most. The knocks were getting louder and louder as I told Elizabeth to hide somewhere in the house that’s safe, and not to move until I told her to. As time was going by, time seemed  to have stopped when suddenly a voice called out to us saying, “Open up we’re here from the magistrate of the court, we need to speak to a Sarah Palmer about an issue of great importance.” Even though it may have been expected to be called out by the ministers, this call was quite an unusual call and a sense of relief in my heart since it seemed they weren’t here for  Elizabeth. Thank the lord and all that has blessed me, since as long as Elizabeth isn’t accused of witchcraft it’ll be ok if I take the burden for her. It was inexcusable though that the people of Salem seem to enjoy the exercising of power, and it was no different for the individuals who came to see her this night. I opened the door slightly, and diligently acted in a way to not seem suspicious or nervous at all. Being a writer, and a woman it’s quite important to keep her composure and act accordingly to the situation at hand. Mostly it was prevalent to act like this on occasion to seem like someone you aren't, but it was necessary since it could mean a matter of life and death when facing a town in a state of hysteria. “Good Evening Ms. Palmer, I’m an official directed by the court, I go by the name of Ezekiel Cheever.” I could already feel the presence of this man before me as it seems like his motives were going to be met no matter what I told him. He seemed to be a man of duty and had a slight hint of arrogance and authority, but I responded with an, “oh I see.” As the conversation continued from formal pleasantries, the tone started to become even more heavy with accusations of the town and the occurrences of witchcraft. Besides these accusations, I thought why were these men accusing a born Christian woman who's attended church frequently and has remembered her Commandments by heart. However, it didn’t matter due to these men being associated with their blind sense of power that made them drunk to achieve their goal to no end.  Because of this woman named Abigail, it almost seemed that officials sent to Salem knew nothing of the happening that is going to transpire if more Christians are accused of being in relation to the Devil. In the name of the Lord, I’m relieved that the conversation hadn’t escalated as terribly as I imagined, but it didn’t help me when they found my room with an assortment of books on various shelves surrounding the relatively small chair. Books like ones were about history, folktales, literature, and religion, nothing out of the ordinary to say the least. However, during these times a woman being a writer was questionable, to say the least, so I was questioned about the possession of books. They asked if I was hiding books on witchcraft and why were you hiding these within your room. It almost seems like they were wishing for me to be further accused of anything that could relate to what they’re looking for. Even so, hopefully, they don’t find something that would peak their interests. When we were in the my reading room, out of the corner of my eye I saw Elizabeth in an area behind a small crawl space that someone as small as she could only fit in. Not noticing my mistake, the men saw my reaction towards Elizabeth and reacted promptly to seeing the obstruction in the room. As I remembered, I tried my best to direct them away from the corner, and soon I thought the unthinkable, I yelled out, “Don’t head towards that corner!” The fear overwhelmed my thoughts as I realized that they would most likely take Elizabeth as an accomplice of a witch. Even though I wasn’t a witch, they would still call blasphemy if I said otherwise. In the end, they did find Elizabeth, but I told the men that I would come quietly if they leave her alone and that I put a curse on her to follow my every word to prove my supposed connection of witchcraft. However, one thing before leaving the silence of my house I saw Elizabeth crying quietly and I told her I love her and I’ll be back for her. “It’s going to be ok Lizzy I love you.” The grandfather clock in the Palmer residence rang loudly as it muffled out the alone crying girl, and the night was soon a chilling midnight.

Sarah Palmer, Salem January 15th, 1962

8-28-1692

 I’m a dog. Today this Sunday in the morning i played with my master as much as my hearts content. After a morning walk in Salem i noticed a lot of people in almost destress and worried but my master Tomas told me to not worry himself that as long as they stayed close to god they would be fine. However, usually on sundays master is at church where god is, but why complain perhaps god wants this. Going back home however was strange, people whispered and stared at my master Tomas while we walked home. The air in Salem is thicker than it was last i came it is heavier and filed with a scent that is evil. But back home things are better than ever i can tell my masters wife Helen is expecting a child, master tells me that it is our duty to is to protect Helen. Of course i plan to do that with my life master always praises me for fending off animals that come by like wolves and ocelots. Once home though Helen questioned maser as to why my master could not take them to church and asked him why he has started to stray from god. My master straying from god? “No i would not stray from my creator but god is with us so i should not have to pray at a church.” Said my master to his beautiful wife. “Then should you say the same to the church and our pastor?” My master scoffed to this though. “That Parris, he talks of nothing but hell and the consequences of the damned.” “So it is Parris why you don't go anymore?” He stopped and gave a sigh after that.He finally came out with the truth. “I don’t believe god spoke of hell so much Helen dont you think he had more important things to talk about like the glory of god.” She gave him light glance and gave him his plate to eat and one for me too. “Well nonetheless you should eat.” She said as she sat next to master and gave him his essentials.

8-31-1692

 Im still a dog. Today i had to walk with masters wife to gather supplies for more food, i can’t see why but she took me though i can't say i didn't have a good time. I got to see many other animals though i haven't seen that many animals here as of late it's been strange. Once my wifes master was done we headed home she got some good smelling food and she even got me a treat. But on the way home what my master calls the court took a woman from her house, she screamed and swore she wasn't a witch it sure scared my masters wife she just walked faster away and told me to come quickly. She talked to me and told me, “Many woman are being accused of witchcraft, and i fear i may be among them. Perhaps if i anything may happen to me you’ll take care of Tomas well and our baby you’ll love him.” She said with almost a quiver in her voice i

could tell she was scared. It was my master and i job to look after Helen and her baby. But her being in stress we may not be doing such a good job. When we got home however, master waited for us and asked Helen how she was. “Im good Tomas what has you so worried?” He was clearly pale and in distress. “Come inside we should talk.” He said, she went inside before him worried and he turned to me and whispered petting me. “You must protect her before anything else, if you should listen to anything it would be that.” Of course i would listen to my master but now i knew he was more than just serious. We went in together after that and with a faint hesitation he finally said his peace. “There stands a rumor of your mention in court..” Quickly Helen fell to her seat in distress and i went over to her to try and calm her down. “Oh Tomas what would be if i were taken to jail, or killed.” “That would not happen i would testify in your name for you! This talk of whoever this Abigail girl accusing people will not go without its consequences.” Just as the sentence came out of his mouth a knocking came from the door. “Oh Tomas.”

August 24^th, 1962

The Mitch family invited my father and I for dinner, it was boring as usual when suddenly Claire pushes the table and starts choking while banging the kitchen floor. She couldn’t breathe it had seemed as if something or someone was keeping her from being alive. Both my father and Mr. Mitch reacted quickly and started helping her, but there was nothing they could do. Claire Mitch died that night, it was all so sudden, no one had expected such a death. As reverend Mr. Mitch started raising questions whether this was an accident, or someone wanted her dead. The town was already uneasy with all the witch accusations, no one knew who to trust. Mr. Mitch decided to pursue this route and requested the whole town gather up for a meeting at the chapel before noon tomorrow.

Everyone was gathering up and were puzzled with the Reverend’s sudden request. “I have noticed burned branches in the woods.” Not one single word was uttered. “With a voodoo doll next to it. Now isn’t it ironic there was a needle stuck to it and suddenly my daughter dies. A group of you is committing witchery. There are witches among us. Trust no one. There will be certain rules that you all need to follow in order to expose those who are guilty. Curfew will be at 6pm anyone who is still wandering around will be questioned and if found guilty, prisoned. Folklore tells us that witches are not welcomed to a house when salt is laid across the door. Everyone would need to start following these rules if you don’t want to be accused of being a witch.” Little does Mr. Mitch know that Claire got what she deserved; she was having an affair with my father. She is supposed to be a married woman who is committed to her husband. MY father was an easy target, he was lonely, and she took advantage of his vulnerability. I saved her if you ask me. They were going to find out soon, better if they didn’t at all. How did I know? She would come over every time I would go pick apples from the trees in the woods. She thought I didn’t see her, but I would watch her put her red coat on and walk discretely out of the house. She was a sinner. Sinners need to pay. Mr. Mitch was right though, salt does prevent a witch from entering a house. He is going to make us draw the line of salt and walk through it. I don’t know how I was going to do it, but I was not going to get exposed after killing his daughter. My dad was next. Even all the love I have for him couldn’t help him fix what he had done. He was supposed to put me first and think about what was right for me. I was his only child, but I guess after mom died he stopped caring.

August 27^th, 1962

“Mr. Rider was found dead this morning. The witch must’ve been here yesterday and there’s a high chance she lashed out with anger. She isn’t pleased with how we have become a united front, this makes her feel threatened. We are cornering her, and we need to proceed with more rules. We are close to exposing her. Folklore not only tells us that witches are incapable from touching but also water. Water is known to be pure and holy, one single touch of this and the witch burns. Each of you, including me, will line up and water will be poured into your hands. I guarantee you we will catch the guilty witch today.” The reverend could say what he wants to say, but you do not mess with a witch. I was going to pass that test one way or another.

I was five persons away from being the first in line, I had to come up with an idea fast. Margaret was in front of me and she was shaking uncontrollably; I don’t understand why, I have not met nor known another of my kind.  “Ah Margaret it’s been a while since I’ve last seen you, how are you.” “Just fine Mr. Mitch” Margaret said as her lips trembled with fear. Like I predicted she burned as if she was being boiled. “We have caught the witch, she is dying. Come everyone grab buckets of water and splash them onto her.” I was happy to help, as long as that witch wasn’t me. I had to be careful though, Water was being splashed everywhere. “We are safe everyone, we have found the guilty one. The one that killed my daughter and Mr. Rider, my they best rest in peace.” I was thankful those days were done with. However, I was so angry with Mr. Mitch, I had to get back at him, but not just yet, it would seem too suspicious. A death caused by stress would help me get away with the witch accusations.

 “Mr. Mitch, can I borrow you for a second,” and like a rat he fell for the cheese trap. We walked towards the chapel, once inside I taunted him. I said how easy of a target his daughter, and like any other dad he was confused because his “little girl was prefect and she didn’t do anything horrible to have died at such a young age.” “Where were you when Alexa would sneak down to my house and started having an affair with my dad.” I loved the disappointed and confused look on his face. “You lie amber, my daughter was a saint, you have always been jealous of her. She was prettier, smarter, and everything you are not.” “Thank you for  pushing me even more to do what I should’ve done a long time ago. Say hi to my dad and your daughter for me, may you rest in peace Mr. Mitch.” Salem was mine and mine only.