1:00
I'm exhausted, my eye lids are drooping over my eyes. Yet I can't find sleep, the wonderfull trait eludes me tonight. Yet If I was snuggled in my warm bed, blankets pulled around me.... Perhaps I would be able to find the sea of sleep all the easier. Instead I'm here, traped in a box if feels.
It isn't actually a box, but a very small room. It is devoid of furniture and a large iron door bars me in. Some straw is scantly scattered on the floor, but it brings me no comfort, only causes me to think of the farming fields swaing mockingly outside my prison, makes me think of warm bread that I will never taste again.
Some say I'm pretty. Long dark hair pulled into a ponytail so to keep out of my face, brillient blue eyes the similer hue of the ocean in the bay a few miles from our town. Though... my dark hair, it only comes from carefull sessions of dying with herbs and mixtures concocted to make my hair change to a form of brown... if any one saw my hair, well that's one of the reasons I ended here.
I know not why, but my hair has always been a vibrant shade of blue, something that would be looked down apon, even feared in this small minded community I reside. That is not my only difference, I have this power... I have known of it ever since I was small. I cried the first time I made water appear from thin air, I was sure I was a witch.... A spawn of saten.
Yet I learned from my parents, that I could use magic, but I wasn't a witch. As long as I used my power to carry out gods will I would be good.... I wouldn't be burned like the other witches.
So I did just that. I used my power to make water in order to give a drink to the thirsty, my ability to make ice was used to keep food from rotting, and I used my gifts most of all to heal the hurt. Yet... here I am in this cell.
2:00
I can see fragments of sun beams dancing on the edges of the door, the sum must be beginig to rise... how I wish I could see the sunrise over our town of Salemm one last time... the reds and blues with purple and orange, just imagining the beautifull colors bring tears to my eyes.
But it doesn't distract me for long... nothing could for long disctract me from my coming doom. I look down to my hand, sparkles of blue magic dance between my fingers. I wish I could form some water to quench my thirst.... Yet I don't want to use more of my magic... use it when it's what got me into this.
It's allmsot ironic. That they caught me and I actually have this magic. The last one they hung... she was a woman a bit older then me. She was slightly plump but was well known for providing shelter for children who had no where else to go. Yet one day the "Witch Hunters" came to her door... proclaimed her a witch and that was all they had to do. All her friends, all the children she helped, even me were in the cround, singing and rejoicing her death... Will people be like that for me? Will the ones I've grown up with, healed when they were sick be cheering for my death...
3:00
Memories haunt me... this must be what people mean when they see their life flashing before their eyes. Yet one memories stands out to me, His name was Isaac... I belive he was the one I loved, but... but, he too was killed.
We had been friends since we were little children for ever, when we were little we promised to eachother we would get married.... I laugh at the memory now. He too had a strange power and aided me in healing. Yet.. he was discovered, he probably sat in this very cell... Tears trailed down my cheeks, soft plip plopping noises sounding as I bent my head, running my hand over the walls.
A scent drew me, in the corner, I was wondering why I hadn't noticed it. It was a small patch of moss... I gave a weak smile and crawled over, closing my eyes and feeling the soft green substance. For whatever reason it reminded me of him. Snuggling onto the small patch of green I breathed I deeply and slowly, imaging him here with me... yet these vision popped like soap bubbles.
I can still remember the day of his execution. When the news had reached me that he was accused as a which my hands grew cold and I ran home only to cry for hours. I did muster the courage to attend his hanging... I stood in the cround as he was brought. I was frozen, unable to speak in his defence, unable to cry out to him, unable to shed a tear.
I saw him serching the croud, and our eyes locked. Tears began pouring down his cheeks and me mouthed me name, but I stood, not moving a muscle. His eyes were full of fear and hurt, as deep a blue as pure sapphires. He closed his eyes all most in defet and I felt a pain in my chest that threatened to over wealm me. As they fitted the noose around his neck he looked to me again, eyes still so full of emotian.
The plat form behind him vanished and I let out a soft scream as the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the courtyard and the tears overflowed my eyes, spilling down unto my robes. And to this day his blue eyes still haunt me, they were still there staring at me with hurt in this cell.
They had all sung a song that day, every time a witch was hung, and now the words echoed in my head, as if taunting me for what they would sing for my death, what they sang for the parting of my beloved.
I Good News...
She's Dead...
Let Us Be Glad
Let Us Be Gratefull
Let Us Rejoyce For The Fact That Goodness Could Subdude
The Wicked Workings Of You Know Who
Isn't It Nice To Know
That Good Will Conquer Evil /I
Yet, he was not evil, far from it. He was the kindest man I had known, devoting his entire life to helping other... yet he was hung, killed...
4:00
Now that I've been thinking about it, having nothing else to do but brood in this cell, I was a fool to trust him... no not Isaac, loving him was the best disision I ever made... no, it was Alex. I put my trust in him, and he is the reason I'm here.
After Isaacs death he came to me and concolled me, becaim my companinon and helper in the small shop I ran. Without a man in the business, no one would come so at the time I thought of it as a financial move. Yet as time passed by, I found my self becoming more and more attatched to this man, and we slowly passed the line of co-workers to friends.
And one day he shocked me. He requested for me to meet him at his house. I had come a bit early to supprise him, yet as I walked in I gave a soft cry. His dark eboney hair was... blue... the exact same shade of blue as my own. My eyes widened and I asked what was going on. That's the day he told me the truth... well what I would find out eventually a lie.
He confessed to me that he had blue hair, and was always frightened of the Witch Hunters, and I must mention this to no one, having my own perdiciment I agreed, and also... showed him the true hues of my hair. I know not what had come into me... maybe it was after Isaac died I had found someone who was different to, someone like me. I had hope that maybe I wasn't so odd, maybe there were more witches that were good people like Alex and I.
But it didn't end there. I even demonstrated my magic to him, leaving his house in high spirits, that maybe Alex would help me cross the bridge of accepting Isaacs death, and accepting the diference that sepperated us from everyone else at Salem.
I No One Mourns The Wicked
No One Cries They Won't Return
No One Lays A Lilly On Their Grave
A Good Man Scorns The Wicked
Though Their Lives, Our Children Learn
What They Miss When They Misbehave /I
5:00
Why did I ever trust him... the next morning there was a knock on my door, rousing me form sleep. I had quickly donned myself in a red shirt and white skirt, and slipping on my favorite blue cloak, for it was a chilly morning. My socked feet padded softly on the wooden floor and I opened it, Alex, with three burly men flanking him.
I "Alex? What are you doing here? It's so early..."
"Don't speak to me scum!"
"Alex... Whats wrong?"
"You know what this is about... witch!" /I
Those words had chilled me to the very bone, those icy eyes boring holes into me. As It turns out... he was the very witch hunter that had found out Isaac, and suspected me of witch craft. So he pulled the entire blue hair trick to attempt to gain my trust. As you can tell... it worked. He played me, and I'm not sure if I'll ever forgive him... Forgive my self.
I closed my eyes, crying almost sobbing I curled into the moss below me, wishing I could be any where else, be any one else but me. The song grew louder in my mind... pounding in my head and not letting me rest... it will haunt me until the hour I die.
I And Goodness Knows
The Wickeds Lives Are Lonely
Goodness Knows
The Wicked Die Alone
Which Just Shows When Your Wicked
You Are Allways
On Your Own /I
6:00
I can hear the rattling of keys. Their coming for me... this is it. I'm going to die... It's odd, die. It's so final. Theres nothing I can do... nothing I can do to hault my fate, to turn back time. I'm going to die for a crime I never commited, I'm going to die for my gift I use to help people.
The doors open, releasing light on my dim cell, causing me to squint. I can see a window behind what ever nameless guard. The sun is shining blood red in the sky. Fitting I guess... I stand up slowely, it's pointless to resist any longer... I will blindly accept my fate.
As I walk donw the corridor to my execusion sight the song becomes louder, almost to deafening to bear
I No One Mourns The Wicked
Now At Last She's Dead And Gone
Now At Last Theirs Joy Throughout The Land /I
We walk through a door and there is a croud watching us, some are yelling curses in my direction, a few look shocked and even fewer are crying. Then in front is a sight that strikes fear into my heart.
It's a cross carved from a white substance... I'm not sure what for our poor town can't afford anything to extragent. Rope is slung on one of the prongs while hay is stacked around it.... I'm was going to be burned at the steak... I shuddered at the thought but still aproched the cross with head hight and face strait, using all my will power not to break down into sobs.
They swiftly tied me so i was dangling above the ground. The sun was behind me, it's fiery surface framing me as I looked onto the croud. My attentionw as drawn to one man... Alex. He stood there glaring at me with his icy gaze... biting my lip tears began to come down my face.
I Goodness Knows
We Know What Goodness Is
Goodness Knows
The Wicked Die Alone /I
The Flam was thrown onto the straw, it quickly spread and cought to my dress, causing me to give a scream, The head and pain reached my legs first, quickly encoumpasing my entire body, causing the tears to come more rapidly, the awful smell of burning flesh reached my nostrils.
I No One Mourns The Wicked /I
All these people... that man, I healed him once when he had broken his leg, and that woman once when she had gotten in the way of a burn I had aided here. Now they stood here... wishing my death, chearing for me to pass on... Their faces were all covered in the blood red of the sun in the sky, showing how incompetent we humans really are.
I No One Mourns The Wicked /I
We will do anything if it is in our best interest, those blue eyes staring out at me are a symbol of that... his icy blue eyes scortch me as much as the fire. But I've seen it... he posseses magic within him.... He only finds other witches to protect himself, which I did my self... the day I watched Isaac die... I could find forgiveness for all these people... none of us understand. We only fear those who are different.
I No One Mourns The Wicked /I
I'm no longer cursed as I see my gift as something I have used for good... I now can't feel anything and my breathing becomes shorter... I'm dying... Soon I'll be able to see Isaac again. My only wish is that no one will have to suffer what I have, gone through the pain I have felt today.... I hope this slaughtering of innocents will end... And with my final breath I sing loud and clear.
I No One Mourns.... The Wicked! /I
Fin
This story is in commemoration to all the countless innocents who died in the time of the Salem Witch hunters. Though Mia was never there here wish was never carried out. Many people died who did nothing at all, they were only different. Now uniquness is considered a redeeming trait. Yet there is still discrimination against others, and I only pray like Mia that somewhere, it will all end, that some day we might find the beauty in all things different and wonderfull. I leave you with these words.