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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/1319283-A-Winter-for-Burning
Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Appendix · History · #1319283
There is a witch to be hung. You decide, do you take her in? Or do you expose her?
[Introduction]
In this campfire, there is a woman named Marrilyn. She is not too beautiful, but she is clever and pretty enough. But she is very independent and very smart. Ah! The perfect recipe for a witch accusation. As the writers of this impending story, each and every one of you must make up your mind about Marrilyn from the following facts

-the man that called her a pig was poisoned by his water two days after
-she once was a Nanny to a girl who began to see mysterious visions
-she is strong witted, clever, and sharp-tongued
-she is well built and never needs aid from a man to do a task
-she is poor; however she does not want to marry
-she lives in England

You may create any character after you have decided your opinion about her. Try to keep your character dynamic and human like. But they can be whoever you like.

All my rules are


-limit your profanity, please
-don't write anything you know to inappropriate or overally judgemental (you're judgement here)
-please keep it 13+

I'll let you take it from there. For a sparker, I'll start with Marrilyn at home, but all the characters start at a town meeting house (inside or outside) where a pastor is hammering on about her misdoings to the town, demanding a witch trial.
It was the winter of 1695; witches of only three years ago lay quiet in their graves, their tombstones empty, a cold sheet white, the color of bones and mist and mystery. What man in his right mind would remember to the world a witch? None. The blank stones reminded the whole, frosty world what would become of you if you were too overambitious in these years--you would fall. In death, your life would betray you--everything you fought for when you could move, breathe would fall away into darkness, and in darkness it would stay.
Such a grim graveyard of death, was ironically surrounded with every form of life. Besides from the shady trees that sheltered the soil, the area burned with life. To the right, the town center was swimming with deep and light voices...even at this cold hour. To the left, the church, with its small window that breathed a bright glow even now showed some forms of life--whether it be the pastor fixing up a convicting sermon or a believer praying for forgiveness, yes there was somebody there.
Yet it was not there something was changing this small Massachusetts town. In the shadow of it's fellow provinces, it had turned a blind eye to a pastor, a powerful character, upset with a woman in the town. A small, tired crowd, aroused from their bed to hear him out had collected there in the town center to hear whatever it was that he had to say.
Inside, that small crowd, eight or ten people, were clustered in creaking wooden chairs. The windows were wide open and yawning in the cold air. They shivered quietly in home-made furs or leather, whispering every now and then a startled comment or a quick joke to lighten a heart, before they resumed to listening the loud and unforgiving sermon they now heard.

"God forever is putting people on this earth. I doubt though that even God, our forgiving God, would ever put inside of this world somebody as cursed as this woman--yes, I ask, would God put a woman on this earth to kill a man? Would God put somebody on this earth a woman to sicken a poor child? Would God, our God, put on this earth a witch? No! And if it is not God, who else IS there, I ask you? Who else has the power to put demons and devils and burning souls onto this earth? The Devil himself, Satan, Lucifer! We are being tried with a test, my friends, and it is time that we finally rid ourselves of this demon, this evil trial; to protect our young America, to prevent its brotherhood and sisterhood from being polluted by the tests that face it now."

Towards the back of the church, In a narrow doorway, a small boy of only ten years old leaned his head in to hear more. His name was Peter Smith, and he was friends with this Lady whom everyone was becoming more and more upset over. What could Marrilyn have possibly done to deserve such harsh words, Peter wondered. Lost in his train of thought he accidentally tumbled forward and fell against the old wooden door, flinging himself inside. Every head turned backwards to stare at him.

“Young man were you eves dropping at this most confidential and important adult meeting? You should be at home in bed. Deliver your explanation at this moment!” Pastor John firmly demanded young peter.

“I… I just came to tell everyone not to be angry with Ms. Marrilyn. She hasn’t done a thing wrong, and she is my friend. She teaches me things!” Peter didn’t understand the gasps he heard after his comment.

“Young man what does Ms. Marrilyn teach you?” Pastor John asked.

“Magic of course.” Peter answered.

The crowd in the room started whispering amongst themselves and grew extremely restless.

Pastor John addressed them once more.

“This is exactly why we must take action towards this woman. She is corrupting our young children. We can not let this happen anymore. I am going to propose a drastic action which must be done immediately. We hang her. It is our only solution. The devil which roams our town must be demolished.”

The crowd became excited, there had not been a hanging in town, since three years ago, when they took care of the exact same problem. Everyone was all for a traditional hanging. So when the vote papers were passed out, all the boxes were checked yes.”

“It is settled then,” Pastor John spoke “ Tomorrow night at sundown, Marrilyn Hatcher will be executed.”

The cheers were loud enough to be heard all over town. Peter turned and ran out of the church, hoping he had enough time to warn Ms. Marrilyn. He noticed on his way out Sherriff Ben motioning to his two guards. They got up and ran after him. Peter picked up his pace and didn’t stop until he reached the rickety old shack Ms. Marrilyn lived in. He beat hard and loud on her wooden front door.
Abigail Collins sat amongst the gathered angry crowd at the meeting house. She knew Sheriff Ben would find no one at home at Marrilyn's house.

Earlier that evening, Marrilyn made a visit to her home telling of the recent tragedies with the vile farmer who failed at his horrible advances toward her. He called her despicable names. She managed to pull away from him and head back home.

Following his mysterious death, which she thought was probably due to his lack of hygiene around
his drinking water, she heard towns' people talking behind her back and giving her cold stares while she shopped at the market place.

She realized she was in further trouble when the rude young lady she took care of while her parents went abroad, started telling wild stories to anyone who would listen. She knew the girl was being vindictive because she was not allowed to go out in the fields to meet with a young man in the neighboring farm.

Abigail was a good friend to Marrilyn. She loved her strength and independence. She was certain her friend was innocent of all these ridiculous charges. However, she also knew the power Pastor John had in the town. These charges would prove fatal to her friend.

Thus, following Marrilyn"s visit, Abigail hid her friend in the root cellar of her home. She came to the meeting and purposely voted against her friend to convince the pastor that she was in accord with his condemnation.

It was brilliant! The pastor will never search her home for the "witch" because Abigail would not be suspected of helping out the fugitive.

© Copyright 2007 j.b.forkandspoon, Rachwrites82, Sssssh! I'm not really here., (known as GROUP).
All rights reserved.
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