Notes: I wrote this as an inner dialogue for Betty Parris. I'm playing her in my school's production and since I can't find a lot of information on Betty online, I decided to write a character analysis through her point of view. Oh, and obviously, this is based off the book and not real life. This is also from my observations when I'm playing her part and what the cast (the girls specifically) has discussed as happening and the blocking, so this is only what I've imagined. My POV as well as Betty's own. This chapter is only going through to the part when John Proctor arrives in Act 1.
Betty knew from the minute her father leapt out of the bushes that she never should have agreed to join Abigail and the other girls in the forest. At first, it had only been a game, dancing around the fire that lit up the middle of the clearing the girls had found. It had been fun to pretend that this witchcraft nonsense really worked and it wasn't meant to bring anyone harm.
The first couple of times, she had been frightened. Most of the others girls were older than her by a good six or seven years and Betty had felt compelled to join, if merely to please Abigail. If Betty told about what happened if her father happened to check on them in the night, Abigail wouldn't hesitate to threaten her cousin physically.
Betty had never danced with them, only watched. It had been captivating to see the girls' forms twirling in the smoke from the fire, and to hear them laughing in their fun and games, asking Tituba to bewitch the local boys into loving them. Betty wasn't currently into boys much, being only ten, but she had brought an item to cast into the pot regardless, just to fit in with the other girls.
Only Mercy had jeered at her then, knowing that the girl was simply pretending. Abigail had only laughed, good-heartedly telling Mercy that it was nothing and to let Betty pretend if she wanted. It was harmless after all. Betty realized only now that it was the only time that she had ever heard Abigail laugh, but didn't take it as a sign until much later.
Now Betty sat on a log at the edge of the clearing, only watching and never dancing. No, being the minister's daughter, she couldn't get caught up in this. If she was ever found dancing, it would be the end of her. Her father would surely scold her more furiously than ever before, maybe even confine her to her room except on Sundays, when she would have to attend church. She already had little to do as it was.
"It's him," a voice suddenly screamed out, jarring Betty from her thoughts. She had been hypnotized by everything going on around her and hadn't noticed the easily identifiable male figure making its way through the smoke and shadows, "It's Reverend Parris! Run!"
Her father! Betty jumped from the log, thinking only to flee. She halted though as she saw the other girls running and screeching away into the forest. The trees echoed with their cries, bouncing them from one end of the clearing to another. It was a horrifying sight, seeing them scrambling over one another, shoving the other girls out of the way in their panic, but Betty quickly shook herself out of it, for she would surely be caught if she stayed still any longer. She moved to run the other way, only to crash right into the arms of her father. Betty only had time to see surprise crossing his face before she fainted dead away.
A soft sound roused Betty from unconsciousness the next morning. Gradually recognizing the voice as her father's, Betty didn't dare open her eyes, afraid to come face-to-face with him. She would surely get a whipping out of this and she hated the way her father's eyes flashed with anger when he retrieved the instrument from the wall.
Her father was as good a parent as he could be, but he was not a gentle man by any means. He would act the concerned parent if in front of a crowd, but little was said to comfort his own child when the doors closed the people off from them.
She concentrated on trying to figure out what he was saying and who he was speaking to, but they were only murmured words, not loud enough to be heard, especially not over the pounding of her heart. Then she realized what he was doing: praying. Over her, she could tell when he spoke her name, pleading with her to wake.
But she couldn't allow herself to give in. If she were to awaken now, this concern over her would surely wash away, making way for wrath and impossible demands. He would want to know what had happened the previous night and she had no answers for him.
"Uncle," a voice rang out and Betty bit back a whimper as she realized that it was Abigail who was speaking. As much as Betty feared her father, she was afraid of Abigail even more so. Her father would surely beat her when she decided to awake, but Abigail looked after Betty and would take advantage of it. Abigail had threatened to beat her if she said a word about their nightly adventures and now the secret was out in the open. There was no escaping it.
Betty listened as Mr. and Mrs. Putnam entered the room and talked with her father. They were talking about witchcraft, she realized with a start, but managed to remain still. And Ruth! She was one of the only girls in the town around Betty's age that she could play with. She was pretending too?
Soon enough, one by one, people left the room. Her father had gone out to speak with the people that gathered outside, so it was silent for but a moment. Then Betty heard another voice. It was Abigail's again, sounding right next to her head, asking her to wake. Betty struggled to keep her eyes closed, understanding the threat behind her cousin's words. Maybe, just maybe if she remained absolutely still and didn't open her eyes, Abby would leave her alone.
It was in times like these when Betty wished her mother was still alive. She had been young when her mother had passed away, but what she remembered was of a gentle woman with a voice sweet enough to send anyone away into a peaceful slumber. Betty longed for a sleep such as that, just to get away from all the confusion.
Then Betty felt hands grabbing at her and voices calling for her to wake up. She tuned them out as best as she could, not responding when they yanked at her arms, forcing her into a sitting position. Betty allowed herself to fall back limply, though her heart was pounding violently in protest to this action.
Then, a gentle hand.
"Betty? Now, Betty, dear, wake up now. It's Abigail," her cousin's voice pierced through, a hand stroking her hair almost affectionately. Then those same, but rough hands grabbed her shoulders, shaking her violently, "I'll beat you, Betty!" This time, Betty couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips or how she shut her eyes more tightly as Abby laughed mockingly, "My, you seem improving. I talked to your papa and I told him everything. So there's nothing to-"
"I want my mama," Betty screamed, jumping up from the bed. They were the first words to pop into her mind as her feet guided her across the room, as far from Abby as she could get. Abigail was trying to break her, Betty realized, though for the moment, Abby was staring at her in surprise.
Just as suddenly as the stroking hands had turned furious, Abby's sweet, loving tone was forever gone, "What ails you, Betty? Your mama's dead and buried."
"I'll fly to mama! Let me fly," Betty called out and rushed for the window. For a split second, she believed that she could fly to Heaven, to see her mother again and hear the same sweet singing as she had years before.
She ran about the room, holding her arms out, leaping onto the wooden box beneath her desired location. The wooden frame was in her grasp, but before she could shift its position to open, arms grabbed around her waist, pulling Betty back from her haven. Betty only had to look down to see that it was Mercy. She kicked her feet and tried to push the hands away, "Let me fly! Let me fly!"
Betty was desperate now, crying out, hoping that she would be released and allowed to join her mother in the skies above, but it was to no avail. Mercy flung her onto the bed, holding her arms as Betty fought desperately. But she was no match for the older girl and her struggles were futile, her small hands clenched into fists that she could not use.
"I told him everything; he knows now," Abby advanced on her menacingly, and her tone suggested that she was trying to frighten Betty into silence, "He knows everything we-"
"You drank blood, Abby! You didn't tell him that!" As she screamed this, Mercy's hold on her loosened. Abby had never told the other girls about what she had done, what she had begged Tituba to do for her.
Betty had watched the whole thing, as Abigail had broken from the group and retreated into the woods. She had turned to watch the entire event take place and heard Abigail's voice calling out to take another's life. She had pretended otherwise as Abigail returned to the clearing, and Abby took her to be mesmerized by the scene in front of her, as she had been many times before.
Betty almost wished she hadn't done it as Abby's face turned pale for a split second, then darkened with fury, "Betty, you never say that again! You will never-"
"You did, you did! You drank a charm to kill John Proctor's wife! You drank a charm to kill Goody Proctor!"
Betty never that she had said too much as Abby didn't hesitate in slamming her across the face, throwing the girl to the floor from the impact, "Shut it! Now shut it!"
She could only cry out feebly for her mama as Abby began to threaten the girls into silence. Betty wept frantically and crawled back onto the bed, curling herself onto the mattress as she shook from fright. But when Abby came to her, demanding that she stop her foolishness, Betty allowed herself to go limp once again, wanting any excuse to escape from the madness, the madness that she herself had caused.