Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Witch

Since I was very small I've felt the eyes on me, watching, waiting for something. I just didn't know what. I never saw these eyes, of course, but they were there. My brother felt them too. When I was seven these eyes were joined by others, these not so invisible. Everyone watched my brother and me. Some stepped away, crossing themselves.

The people of my village were obsessed with witch hunting. I had even been to one of the burnings. Mother didn't approve, but what could she do to keep me away? There were few chores to do around our small home, and any who openly disapproved were scorned by society.

I saw my first witch burning when I was eight. Mrs. Porter, wife of the late Thomas Porter, a stooped arthritic woman was always muttering darkly to herself, was accused of hexing a young boy who had accidentally hit a ball in her yard. She had stood in the middle of a pile of dry sticks. She was as hunched as ever, her almost-white-grey hair spilling down over here stooped shoulders and withered face. Her twisted, gnarled hands were tied between her and the tall stake she was tied to. Her brows were knitted together and the corners of her mouth were turned down, but her eyes were blank, dead.

One of the village men held a torch. In a loud, clear voice he declared the verdict against the woman. He brought the torch to the base of the sticks at her feet. The flames caught and began creeping up her legs.

For a moment, it was silent. Then a blood curdling, high scream pierced the quiet. Many turned their heads and little children covered their ears. Some ran away. Not me. I watched transfixed as she writhed and thrashed in agony, still shrieking. The fire crept to her throat and lit her hair. The screams got louder.

She continued to scream for an hour more. Then, with a slight gurgle, they cut off and her movements ceased. She slumped forward, dead. Her hair and clothes had all burned of and her skin was charred and blistered. The crowds began to clear, but I stayed. I watched until all of her was charred ashes.

I loved it.

Tearing my eyes from the smoldering remains of my old neighbor, I started for home. Dusk had fallen and the world had taken on an eerie deep purple tint. I meandered down the lane deep in thought, when something hard hit me right between the shoulder blades. I turned to see a small cluster of children about my age. Their colorful, neat pressed clothes were in great contrast to my own tattered homespun. They were pressed together, as if afraid.

I glanced toward the ground. The object that had hit me was a small stone.

A tall boy a few years older then I spoke up then.

"Witch," he spat at me.

Heat coursed though me. I glared at them wishing so bad to hurt them. To see them writhe like the woman...

They turned and fled then. Probably afraid, of me! Ha! I was no witch. If I was...

I took a deep breath, letting my fury out with it.

I was nearly home when I ran into Alec. We were twins. He had easily overlooked brown hair and eyes same as I, through my hair was longer. We were the type of people you could pass one hundred times on a crowded street and never look at twice. "Plain Jane," I thought wryly.

Alec smiled, taking my hand, and we ran up the lane to the house.

Alright! The first chapter of my first fanfic EVER! I really hope you like it, please review and tell me how to make it better.

Love, Gold Eyed Girl